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PETER and NANCY 
/«-> AUSTRALIA 

and ISLANDS of the PACIFIC 


BY 

MILDRED HOUGHTON COMFORT 

Author of Peter and Nancy in Europe 
Peter and Nancy in South America 
Peter and Nancy in Africa 
Peter and Nancy in Asia 



BECKLEY-CARDY COMPANY 

CHICAGO 

















TO PATTY 

(Margaret Pattison Zeus) 



j 


Copyright, 1937 , by 
BECKLEY-CARDY COMPANY 
All rights reserved 

Printed in the United States of America 


Dot A 


112485 


C.A 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Southward, Ever Southward !. 9 

Crossing the Equator 

A Dinner and a Siva-Siva Dance . 17 

The Samoan Islands 

The Silver Ship. 26 

Upolu, the One-Time Home of Robert Louis Stevenson 

The Cannibal Farmers. 33 

The Fiji Islands 

The Long Bright Land. 43 

New Zealand 

A Windy City and the Kiwi. 52 

Wellington and the New Zealand Fruit Country 

A Bit of England and Scotland . 62 

Christchurch and Dunedin, New Zealand 

A Strange Gate to a Wonderful Harbor . 74 

Sydney, Australia 

Koalas and Emus. 83 

Visiting the Powries in Sydney 

In Caves, On Beaches, and in the Air. 94 

In and Near Sydney 

A City That Mirrors a Vast Land. 106 

Brisbane, Australia 

A City Made to Order . 115 

Canberra, Australia 

The Home of Melba . 122 

Melbourne, Australia 

A Sheep Station. 131 

New South Wales, Australia 


3 
















4 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

A Cattle Station. 140 

Queensland, Australia 

The Bowerbird. 151 

In a Queensland Forest 

A Heart-Shaped Land of Beauty. 158 

Tasmania 

A Garden City and a Great Plain. 166 

Across Nullarbor Plain from Adelaide to Perth 

Head-Hunters and Tree-Dwellers. 177 

The Island of Papua 

Three Islands of the Sea. 186 

Java, Sumatra, and Borneo 

A Land of Many Peoples . 200 

The Philippine Islands 

The Moros and Bagobos at Home.218 

The Island of Mindanao 

On the Path of Magellan. 225 

The Visayan Islands 

An Island City. 286 

Manila, the Philippine Islands 

An Exciting River Trip... 249 

Island of Luzon 

Volcanoes . 258 

In the Mountains of Luzon 

The Flying Clipper Ship. 271 

From Christmas in the Philippines to Summer 
in Hawaii 

Shower Trees and Pineapple Rings.283 

Honolulu and Waikiki Beach 

Aloha Oe. 296 

Around the Islands of Hawaii and Farewell 



















LIST OF 

FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Peter and Nancy in the South Sea Islands. .Frontispiece 

The Houses Rose Tier on Tier. 59 

A Maori Woman and Child. 70 

The Rainbow Bridge and an Irregular Bay. 75 

Shark-Fishing Is a Business. 103 

Melbourne is a Regular Chicago or New York. 124 

Eucalyptus Trees in Australia. 133 

Aborigine Climbing a Tree to Bring Down Honey. . 149 

The Trail Was Often Overgrown. 153 

A Great Palm Cockatoo and a Cockatoo Parrot. . . . 155 

Australian Opossums . 156 

Parliament House in Hobart. 163 

Australian Miners at Work. 173 

A Native Boy in Holiday Dress. 207 

Wake Island. 279 


5 



































































































































































































































































































































THEIR LONGEST TRIP 


P ETER .and Nancy are about to take their 
longest trip to the farthest places. Uncle Lee 
won’t mind having a few more children along. He 
likes them. 

A party on the equator will be just the beginning 
of a series of adventures in Samoa, Fiji, New 
Zealand, and Australia. 

“Down under” might easily describe the where¬ 
abouts of the MacLarens, for it is below the equator 
that they will spend most of their time. 

They’ll visit the cities of Australia, and, if you 
think these are just cities , you’re due for a delight¬ 
ful surprise. They’ll go back into the country, too, 
visiting a sheep station, a cattle station, and a 
jungle. No ordinary jungle expedition this, but 
one conducted by an aborigine or native Australian. 

Be ready as soon as school is out so that you may 
spend next Christmas in the Philippines. 

As a final thrill Peter and Nancy see the Stars 
and Stripes wave again, this time over Hawaii, 
the Paradise of the Pacific. And last of all they 
invite you to return home on a Clipper airship. 
Aloha! 

The Author 


7 




































































































































































































































































































































































































PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


SOUTHWARD, EVER SOUTHWARD! 


A RIBBON of dark, beautiful blue seemed to 
divide the sea from the sky. For days and 
days there was no particular excitement aboard the 
ship. Now, however, people were beginning to 
congregate on deck and to stare at the horizon as 
though examining some rare phenomenon. 

“We are about to cross the equator,” the captain 
announced. 

“The equator !” everyone exclaimed. “We’re 
approaching it. Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the 
world!” 

Peter and Nancy MacLaren, those seasoned 
young geographers, were now on their way to Aus¬ 
tralia with their magic uncle, Mr. Lee MacLaren. 
They tried to look bored as they came up on the 
Mde deck of the liner. In fact, they strove to 
affect the manner of persons to whom the most 
extraordinary things have become ordinary. They 
did not succeed very well. After all, as Peter said, 
there was only one equator, and even if it didn’t 
make the earth go round, it went round the earth. 

If the truth were known, these two confident¬ 
appearing youngsters felt decidedly humble. This 
was to be the longest and most extensive trip they 


9 



10 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


had taken. Uncle Lee had used great persuasive 
powers to make his editor see that “the child’s 
viewpoint” was essential in the travel series he was 
writing. 

Of course Peter and Nancy were growing up. 
Peter’s head was on a level with Uncle Lee’s tall 
shoulder, and Nancy was becoming what a frank 
onlooker might describe as “leggy.” Peter’s wide 
blue eyes, so like Uncle Lee’s, were as shining as 
ever, and his curly hair was bleached almost straw 
color from going without a hat. Nancy’s calm 
gray eyes sparkled, and her face was alight with 
happiness. She saw her own exuberant gaiety re¬ 
flected in Peter’s face. 

“To look at us,” she remarked, as she stood be¬ 
side Peter at the rail, “one would never suspect that 
we were in the doldrums.” 

“Just geographically,” Peter acknowledged. 
“There’s Donald Powrie sitting in a deck chair. 
He’s on his way home to Australia. Hey there, 
Don! You can walk around now. It’s calm.” To 
Nancy, Peter explained, “When it is rough, he get£ 
seasick.” 

A tall, very fair lad teetered gingerly from his 
deck chair to the rail. As he looked downward, a 
smile spread over his face. 

“There’s the equator,” Peter announced with an 
expansive wave of his hand. “Over there some 
place, where the land meets the sky! Nancy, this 
is Don Powrie.” 

“Hello!” said Donald. 



SOUTHWARD, EVER SOUTHWARD! 


11 


“Donald has been living in Canada with his 
grandmother,” Peter explained. “Now he’s going 
home.” 

“What makes it so calm?” questioned Donald. 
“I wonder if it is always so calm in this part of 
the world.” 

Peter grinned at Nancy. 

“Explain it to him,” he begged. 

“Perhaps I can,” Nancy said quietly. “Donald, 
we are in a section known as the equatorial calms. 
Trade winds are blowing toward us from the north¬ 
east and from the southeast. When the winds meet 
here near the equator, they are very warm winds. 
The air, being hot, rises, so there is almost no wind 
in the region near the equator. That is why this 
condition is known as the equatorial calms—Some¬ 
thing’s happening! Why is the band playing? 
What’s everybody shouting for?” 

“Father Neptune!” Peter yelled. “Look! We 
are nearing the equator, and the old god of the sea 
is coming up over the bow of the ship. He’s com¬ 
ing straight for us! Thinks we haven’t crossed 
before.” 

“What a crew behind him!” Nancy laughed at 
the queer group in grass skirts and painted faces 
partly covered with beards and long hair. “They 
are going to initiate everybody who hasn’t crossed 
the equator before!” 

“This is going to be fun!” exclaimed Donald. 

“They used to lather the passengers,” Peter put 
in excitedly, “then they’d douse them in the sea 




12 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


three times, swinging them out from the yardarm. 
Those days were real pirate days. Now they just 
paint you up a bit and duck you in the swimming 
pool. Well, that's one thing we escape this time." 

Father Neptune, his long white beard flowing 
down over his grass costume, brandished his trident 
arrogantly. The sun glinted on the three prongs 
as he advanced toward the children at the rail. His 
followers, like old dogs of the sea, were close at 
his heels, leaping about in wild glee. Everybody on 
deck laughed and shouted, their eyes on the group 
of children. 

“We've traveled across the equator before," 
Peter announced when he could make himself 
heard. 

“You're sure?" Father Neptune winked a w^atery 
eye. 

“My sister and I live on a farm in Minnesota," 
Peter explained. “And we've been to Magallanes 
and Capetown both. Our friend, Donald Powrie 
here, was born in Australia, and he's on his way 
back from Canada." 

“Why, you seasoned old globe-trotters!" ex¬ 
claimed Father Neptune. “Shake hands!" 

After a hilarious initiation of a gay group and 
a most delicious dinner, Peter and Nancy invited 
Donald to the ship's library where Uncle Lee spent 
many of his free hours. They found him there 
reading about the Dutch navigator, Roggeveen, 
who discovered the Samoan Islands, and about the 
explorer Cook, who rediscovered them. The three 



SOUTHWARD , EVER SOUTHWARD! 


13 


main islands, Savaii, Upolu, and Tutuila were the 
only ones of any importance. The two bigger ones, 
Uncle Lee explained, were now under the govern¬ 
ment of New Zealand. The third island, Tutuila, 
belonged to the United States and was used as a 
naval base. 

“North of the equator,” he observed, “the Stars 
and Stripes fly over plenty of territory. South of 
the equator our flag flies over few possessions, but 
they make up in beauty for what they lack in size. 
Tutuila is a gem of the Pacific.” 

The ship plowed steadily southward through 
green water and waves which were often white- 
capped. There was a freshness in the breeze and 
a smell of warm, seagirt islands that was purely 
tropical. Everyone on board was talking of the 
beautiful island of Tutuila where the handsome 
Polynesians dwelt. The name of its port was on 
every tongue. 

“Pago Pago!” Peter repeated as he played shuf- 
fleboard with Nancy and Donald. “I like the sound 
of it. It’s pronounced Pango Pango, you know. 
Sounds like ripe coconuts dropping — Pan-go! 
Pan-go!” 

“I wonder if it will be as peaceful as it sounds,” 
Nancy pondered. “Uncle Lee said we had to make 
a treaty with the highest chiefs to gain our privi¬ 
leges there. Whenever I hear of chiefs and tribes, 
I think of savages.” 

“The Samoans are mostly Christians,” Peter de¬ 
clared, “and you know as well as I do that Robert 



14 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

THE STRANGEST HARBOR IN THE WORLD 


Louis Stevenson loved them because they were so 
gentle and kindly and intelligent.” 

A palm-studded island with mountains rising to 
the sky came in view, and the great Matson liner, 
just five days out of Honolulu, sailed into the 
strangest harbor in the world. It was the crater 
of an extinct volcano, with the entrance from the 
sea a very narrow channel where a single break 
had been made on the south side. 

“The high walls of the old volcano, 1 ” Uncle Lee 
explained to the excited children, “are a wonderful 
protection for a ship during a hurricane. See that 




SOUTHWARD , EVER SOUTHWARD! 


15 


high mountain over there? That’s Mount Pioa, 
known as the Rainmaker.” 

Native boys wearing flowers behind their ears 
or wreaths about their heads swam out to help 
anchor the boat. The men were tall, muscular, and 
well formed. The women and children on the shore, 
with their flashing teeth, shining dark eyes, and 
clear, reddish-brown skins, possessed a wholesome 
beauty that was the result of outdoor life and happy 
living. 

Soft, musical voices rang out, “Talofa! Talofa!” 
which Uncle Lee interpreted as, “Love to you.” 

An official hostess or taupo, who happened to be 
a chief’s daughter, welcomed the MacLarens gra¬ 
ciously. She had been told of their coming by a 
ftta-fita, or native policeman. She said her name 
was Fialelei but that they might call her Lily if they 
chose. About her dark curly hair she wore a 
wreath of red flowers, and there were necklaces of 
flowers and red seeds about her neck. They hung 
down over the smock she wore and the lava-lava 
which served as a skirt though it was really only a 
piece of printed cotton cloth tucked in at the waist. 

Neither Peter nor Nancy showed any great in¬ 
terest in the docks, the radio station, the schools, 
the churches, or even the Naval Station. Lily 
fairly bubbled with delight when Peter pointed to¬ 
ward a fale , or native house. Nancy paused to 
watch a boy who was sliding down a tree holding 
a ripe coconut. Quickly he tore off the husk of the 
coconut on a sharpened stick thrust into the ground. 



16 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


Then with his knife he knocked off one end of the 
brown shell and offered Nancy this native goblet 
with its pure white lining. It was brimful of de¬ 
licious milk that tasted slightly sweet but had a 
most delightful flavor. 

Nancy said, “I drink to Samoa, land of beauty 
and hospitality.” 

She drank and passed the coconut shell to Peter. 

“To Samoa !” he said, and did not pause until he 
had drained every drop of the good liquid. 

The native children who had gathered about 
laughed delightedly. Peter and Nancy knew that 
they were welcome in the South Seas. 



A DINNER AND A SIVA-SIVA DANCE 


T HE great liner floated in the placid oval crater, 
a strange anchorage. Fleets of outrigger 
canoes, which Uncle Lee said were made of hol¬ 
lowed logs, slipped out over the blue water. Peter 
and Nancy strolled down to the beach of Pago Pago. 
It seemed narrow because of the three-thousand- 
foot cliffs that rose up and up behind the town. The 
men out in the boats were spearing fish. Fish- 
spearing was sport, so Uncle Lee declared, for the 
ordinary way to procure fish for food was to net 
them. Lily said the women often caught the fish 
while the men worked in the gardens where taro, 
yams, or papayas grew. Bananas were common 
everywhere, as were coconuts. In fact coconuts, 
Lily informed her guests, were about the only ex¬ 
port. Merchants in the world beyond the islands 
sold the oil extracted from the coconut for a butter 
substitute, for salad oils, and even for cosmetics. 

Uncle Lee suggested a trip to a native village. 
On the trail a youth came to meet the MacLarens 
and their guide. On his head he wore a chaplet of 
double hibiscus flowers. About his neck was a 
necklace of scarlet seeds. His skirt was of bark- 
cloth streamers. In his hand he held a ceremonial 
knife, bound with brass. Smiling, he announced 
that the tribe was holding a siva-siva dance, and the 
MacLarens were invited to the dinner which was 


17 


18 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


to precede the dance. They followed the youth 
through the woods, past bare-branched frangipani 
with waxlike, fragrant flowers and among bread¬ 
fruit trees with their dark green, many-fingered 
leaves. Glancing up at the graceful coconut palms, 
Peter and Nancy felt as though they were in some 
strange fairyland. 

In the sunlight of an open space stood a big 
nutmeg tree. 

“Looks much like our hickory tree at home,” 
Peter remarked. “Uncle Lee, how many kinds of 
trees are there on the islands?” 

“About forty, I should say,” Uncle Lee replied. 
“I believe that's the estimate.” 

“There's a tree that looks like one of Uncle's 
cottonwood trees out in Wyoming,” Nancy ex¬ 
claimed and was informed by Uncle Lee that she 
was looking at a candlenut tree. 

The wide-spreading banyan tree, however, had 
no counterpart in Minnesota and was, as Peter 
and Nancy soon learned, the monarch of the 
Samoan forest. The breadfruit tree was familiar, 
for both Peter and Nancy had enjoyed breadfruit 
many times in South America and Africa. 

The dense forest gave way to a palm-lined lane 
and the lane in turn to a clearing. The group of 
haystacks became Samoan houses, really well-built 
houses, as the MacLarens found upon examining 
them. Since it was daytime, each house was an 
open pavilion. At night, Uncle Lee explained, 
finely woven mats could be lowered for protection. 





A DINNER AND A SIVA-SIVA DANCE 


19 



These islanders were not only artists but artisans 
as well. The houses that looked so simple were 
beautifully built. One of them happened to be in 
the process of construction and Peter and Nancy 
spent most of their time watching the workmen. 
The roof, thatched to keep out heat and rain, was 
supported by the trunk of a very large tree in the 
center and smaller ones around the edge. No nails 
nor wire were used in the construction of the house. 
Instead, the house-builders used a rope made from 
the husks of coconuts. This rope was called sennit. 

Did just anybody help with the building of a 
Samoan house, Peter wanted to know. He was in- 


Ewing Galloway 

HAYSTACK HOUSES OF SAMOA 




20 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


formed that there always was one skilled worker 
who knew the traditional number of posts and their 
positions. It was very necessary to build carefully 
and accurately so that visiting chiefs might be 
properly seated. To place the slender rafters and 
then to tie the slim ribs, made from the wood of 
the breadfruit tree, to the rafters required a great 
deal of skill. Lily said that builder and crew 
usually went from village to village to put up what¬ 
ever houses were necessary. They received gifts 
and food for this work. 

The women, so the children learned, helped with 
the roof thatching. They collected long, uniform 
leaves of sugar cane and fastened them in groups to 
a reed about five feet long. The builders had only 
to tie each reed with sennit to the roof ribs. 

“Oh, how neat it is inside!” Nancy exclaimed. 

“That’s because the workers tie all knots on the 
outside,” Peter decided. “Nancy, look at the pan- 
danus mats. How cleverly those girls weave the 
strips, in and out and in and out! Whole coils of 
the pandanus leaves, dried and ready to use! They 
feel cool and smooth. Not a bad floor covering.” 

“Rather necessary,” Uncle Lee said. “If you’ll 
notice, these houses have a stone foundation and a 
floor made of stones. There’s a place for a fire in 
the middle of the floor, so that the place may be 
lighted. The fire helps to keep the mosquitoes 
away, too. These mats are used both as chairs and 
as beds. Several of them piled up make a comfort¬ 
able seat, even when laid on a stone floor.” 




A DINNER AND A SIVA-SIVA DANCE 


21 



Ewing Galloway 

A GROUP OF SAMOAN NATIVES 


The floor of the chief’s house was made of small, 
round pebbles that must have taken months to 
gather and select. The roof was supported by a 
perfect circle of solid breadfruit wood. The 
rafters of coconut held a latticework of cane, tied 
closely with sennit cord. This cord had been dyed 
in many colors. After being colored, it had been 
woven so that the whole interior of the roof was an 
intricate, beautiful pattern. 

A number of young women dressed in costumes 
of tapa cloth came up shyly to ask the children if 
they would not like to see the feast cooking. 





22 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


“Kitchens always interest me,” Peter declared. 
“Lead me to the cooky jar.” 

The kitchen proved to be just a shed with an 
open fire built among stones. Men and women 
both were working about. The men were roast¬ 
ing a pig, and the women were setting chunks of 
white breadfruit upon the coals. Yams gave off 
the good smell of roasting sweet potatoes. Along 
the edge of the fire, coconut shells filled with cream 
pressed from sweet coconut meats were placed be¬ 
tween banana leaves, the steam making a fragrant, 
appetizing aroma. 

The older men, Lily explained, had already 
cleaned up the village and the older women had 
already prepared much of the food for the feast, 
especially the taro cakes. The roots of taro had 
to be baked, then ground into a paste and allowed 
to ferment before the cakes could be made. The 
young women all helped with the care of the smaller 
children and the weaving of the pandanus mats. 
The young men tended the gardens, brought in 
the fish, and harvested the coconuts, the meats of 
which were to be sold as copra. The smallest chil¬ 
dren, as well as their elders, helped to keep the 
village neat by carrying any refuse or trash to the 
fire pit. 

“IPs a community life.” Peter expressed his 
discovery with surprise. 

“It is,” Uncle Lee agreed, looking hungrily at 
the baking breadfruit. “Many meals are eaten 
together. Borrowing is common. It is an un- 





A DINNER AND A SIVA-SIVA DANCE 


23 


written law that whatever a man asks for you give 
him, if you have it. The Polynesian seldom looks 
out for the morrow, but to say he does not work is 
not true.” 

When the meal was ready, Peter and Nancy sat 
down on the ground in the wide circle and ate with 
their fingers from banana-leaf plates. 

“No dishwashing here,” Nancy declared as she 
accepted a tender yam, a piece of broiled chicken, a 
chunk of breadfruit and a small, sweet pineapple. 
The delicious custards baked in the coconut shells 
came last. There was nothing to compare with 
them for flavor and delicacy. 

Uncle Lee attended the special serving of kava, 
the native drink made from the root of a shrub 
belonging to the pepper family. He said the cere¬ 
mony was elaborate and that the kava tasted a 
good deal like soapsuds. 

The chief had lamented the passing of the old 
days when the forty-foot canoes were the only 
boats between the islands. In those days the 
islanders rowed and sang, and a native did not 
speak of miles. He said merely, “It is fourteen 
verses beyond the tree that hangs over the sea,” or 
“It is ten verses from the rock near the crater.” 

“I agree with the chief,” Peter declared. “Sing¬ 
ing distances, measuring space off by verses, is 
much more fun than talking about miles and lati¬ 
tude and longitude.” 

After the meal and the kava ceremony, the entire 
tribe prepared for the siva-siva dances. One and 




PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


all, they appeared in various costumes, wearing 
flowers, seed necklaces, skirts of bark, and head¬ 
dresses often made elaborate with shells and birds’ 
feathers. Even tiny children, with red hibiscus 
flowers in wreaths about their necks or stuck behind 
small ears, seemed to know just what to do. 

There were no musical instruments, but the na¬ 
tives clapped their hands in a soft, muffled rhythm. 
Some few beat upon a roll of pandanus matting 
to help mark the rhythm. The singing began, 
gaining in volume and power. It sounded like a 
great organ. It reminded Peter and Nancy of the 
cathedral organ at home. 


Ewing Galloway 

THE KAVA CEREMONY 






A DINNER AND A SIVA-SIVA DANCE 


25 


One group of songs followed another; songs of 
marching, fighting, sorrowing, rejoicing! The 
children could distinguish serenades, songs of war, 
and songs of peace. 

“It’s their whole history,” Nancy guessed, “told 
in the siva-siva dances. It is so much more inter¬ 
esting to hand down history in this way than in 
books.” 

The MacLarens returned dreamily to the hotel 
in Pago Pago. Donald Powrie was waiting for 
them in the hotel lobby. 

’“Samoa’s a problem for Uncle Sam, eh what!” 
he exclaimed. “Keeps the Health Department 
busy.” 

“Make him stop, Uncle Lee,” Nancy begged. 

“What’s the matter?” Donald asked, puzzled. 
“I’ve been learning things. The Polynesians are 
the only islanders hereabout that aren’t dying out. 
One reason is that they don’t overwork. When the 
big hurricane came a few years ago and tore up 
the breadfruit trees, Uncle Sam sent them rice. 
They liked the rice, so they wouldn’t plant bread¬ 
fruit trees again. The police had to do it. And 
they don’t even know about Congress.” 

“Why should they?” Peter demanded. “Uncle 
Lee, make him stop.” 

“Well!” said Donald. “You must have seen a 
Samoa I didn’t see.” 

“We did,” Peter declared. 

“And you must see it, too,” Nancy said. “You 
must see these lovable people of a lovely island.” 



THE SILVER SHIP 


T HE MacLarens could not leave Samoa without 
a visit to the shrine on Upolu Island, the one¬ 
time home of Robert Louis Stevenson. Long ago 
he had sailed in what he chose to call his Silver Ship 
looking for health and happiness. He had found 
both on this South Sea Island. He had found health 
in the wonderful sunny climate; he had found hap¬ 
piness in cheerful service. In this island home he 
wrote many of his books. 

In a long canoe with an outboard motor the 
MacLarens made the forty-mile trip from Pago 
Pago, running in over the coral reef to the little 
volcanic island of Upolu upon whose shores great 
coconut trees were growing. The port of Apia, 
however, was not impressive. It was just a little 
town of about five hundred whites and probably 
twice as many natives. It looked misty because of 
a rainstorm. 

By the time the canoe had grounded, the foglike, 
misty rain had cleared away, and Mount Vaea 
raised her lovely head. One side of the main street 
of Apia boasted shops, stores, and inns, while the 
other side was simply beach and open sea, with little 
native dwellings here and there along the shore. 
Walking along beside Nancy, Peter began to recite 
from A Child's Garden of Verses . With happy 
abandon, he cried: 


26 


THE SILVER SHIP 


27 



Ewing Galloway 

ON A LITTLE SOUTH SEA ISLAND 


“ ‘Where shall we adventure, today that we’re 
afloat, 

Wary of the weather and steering by a star?’ ” 

“There’ll be no need to steer by a star,” Uncle 
Lee put in whimsically. “The path to Vailima, 
Stevenson’s home, should be well worn.” 

The bay of Apia was smooth green water now. 
It glistened in the sunlight. The built-up side of 
the street revealed fine government buildings, set 
back from the avenue of tropical trees with their 
red and yellow foliage. Nancy looked back to the 
sea where it lapped the roots of the palm trees. On 




28 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


such a sea a Silver Ship had sailed, a ship with a 
kindly man aboard; a man, who in spite of ill 
health and many sorrows, could write: 

“The world is so full of a number of things, 

Fm sure we should all be as happy as kings.” 

Uncle Lee persuaded his charges to get into an 
ancient carriage that a grinning native boy of¬ 
fered. There were automobiles on the street, but 
they were too modern to fit the mood of the Mac- 
Larens on this pilgrimage. The first turn brought 
the little party to a wide modern road, bordered 
by beautiful green trees, coconut palms, shiny 
rubber trees, yellow-fruited banana plants, and red, 
white, and pink hibiscus, waving in the warm air. 

A second turn, and Nancy took a deep breath, 
saying, “I feel that this must be the Road of Grati¬ 
tude, built by the chiefs to show their love for 
Tusitala, the teller of tales. I think that is my 
favorite name for Stevenson—Tusitala.” 

“Well, Treasure Island is my favorite book,” 
Peter acknowledged. “Though I do like the 
verses!” 

“Let’s walk,” Uncle Lee suggested. 

Almost before the old horse stopped, Peter and 
Nancy were out on the beautiful road, knowing 
that the vines, shrubs, and trees were the finest 
any tropical forest could grow. 

“This is one of the best walks we ever took,” 
Nancy declared. “I like the way this road climbs 
up and up. What was it the chiefs said about it 



THE SILVER SHIP 


29 



Ewing Galloway 

A PALM-BORDERED ROAD NEAR APIA 

when they built it for Stevenson? 'It shall never 
be muddy. It shall endure forever/ Yes, it is 
truly the Road of Loving Hearts/’ 

Peter, who had walked on rapidly, lingered be¬ 
tween two stately trees, waiting for Uncle Lee and 
Nancy. When they finally arrived, he said, "There 
it is! Straight ahead!” 

And there it was, the one-time home of Robert 
Louis Stevenson. It was a white, two-story house 
with spacious verandas above and below. It 
looked homey and comfortable, a house to live in 
and to dream in. The lawn was large and well 
kept, but back of it, the green mountain jungle re- 




30 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


fused to be tamed. The MacLarens strolled into 
the yard, and Nancy sat down on a seat built 
against the trunk of a Samoan chestnut. She 
squinted up into the sunlight at the flagpole on the 
front of the house from which floated the Union 
Jack. 

The governor was not at home, but Uncle Lee 
secured admission to the house. The walls of the 
big living room that Stevenson had built of natural 
redwood had been painted white. The large stone 
fireplace, however, had not been changed. Uncle 
Lee said it was the only fireplace in the Samoan 
Islands and was not necessary for heat. But 
Stevenson had built it in memory of his childhood 
home in Scotland. 

“In this fireplace,” said Uncle Lee softly, 
“Stevenson burned logs from tropical trees and 
driftwood that gave off strange, lovely lights. 
Sometimes there was a fragrance from the wood, 
sometimes a pungent sweetness, and sometimes 
there was just the smell of forest and sea.” 

“Uncle Lee, you’re almost a poet yourself,” 
Nancy praised. “Here in this very room the chiefs 
came to talk over their troubles with Stevenson. 
Women came, too, and dark-eyed children, for they 
all knew they had here a loving friend. I do wish 
we might see the back porch where the natives used 
to leave gifts.” 

Nancy’s request was easily granted. From the 
back porch one could look up the mountain and 
Peter said he could easily imagine some smiling 





THE SILVER SHIP 



Ewing Galloway 

WASHING CLOTHES IN THE POOL 


native bringing down a large turtle, a mess of fish, 
or even a live pig as an offering. Once, he knew, 
an enthusiastic friend had brought a white bull 
with a wreath of flowers about its neck. But more 
often than anything else, there appeared on the 
back porch fresh flowers with the dew on them, 
sweet, tropical flowers holding in their petals all 
the fragrance of the jungle. 

Suddenly Peter exclaimed, “A pool! There's 
an artificial pool out there!” 

The pool had been hollowed out in the bed of the 
shady mountain stream just at the foot of a natural 
cascade which served easily as a shower. On 
examination, the MacLarens saw that a gate had 






32 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


been built in the retaining dam so that the pool 
might be filled or emptied at will. 

Two native women were washing clothes in the 
pool. Instead of rubbing the clothes, they pounded 
them with a piece of wood shaped like a rolling pin. 

The mountain was almost overhanging the pool 
which was Stevenson's favorite haunt, and where 
he and his wife had spent many happy hours. A 
winding path, steep and overhung with tropical 
vegetation, led eventually to Stevenson's tomb. 

The MacLaren children were quiet as they left 
the Stevenson estate for the return to Apia. 

“I know a Stevenson verse that fits the occasion," 
teased Uncle Lee when he saw how tired both Peter 
and Nancy were. 

Peter's eyes twinkled. 

"I have a suspicion of what it is," he said, “but 
go ahead." 

“Yes," Nancy agreed. “Go ahead." 

Uncle Lee repeated what was in the minds of 
both young travelers, and it did sound inviting: 

“ ‘My bed is waiting cool and fresh, with linen 
smooth and fair, 

And I must off to sleepsin-by, and not forget my 
prayer.'" 



THE CANNIBAL FARMERS 


M ELANESIA! Mayfair! Madras! That was 
the way the steamer folders had described 
Suva. Just exactly what did it mean? Peter and 
Nancy put the question to Uncle Lee as they left 
the hotel with Donald the next morning. 

“Use your eyes!” he called back. “Surely you 
know that Melanesia refers to the native Fijis.” 

“And Mayfair refers to the English and Aus¬ 
tralians we see everywhere,” Nancy added. 

“But Madras!” Peter was puzzled. “Uncle Lee, 
there are so many of the small, brown people. They 
look like the people we saw in India. But why are 
they here?” 

“Because the Fiji just doesn’t care for steady em¬ 
ployment and the owners of sugar-cane plantations 
and mills have to get their product ready for mar¬ 
ket at the proper time,” Uncle Lee explained. “And 
so coolie labor was imported.” 

Uncle Lee hustled Peter, Nancy, and Donald 
into a cab that took them through a street of two- 
storied buildings whose shabby balconies jutted out 
over the sidewalks. These places all had brass 
plates announcing that they represented agencies 
for sewing machines, radios, or refrigerators, lines 
of business alien to Nancy’s idea of the islanders. 

The street widened. It became Victoria Parade. 
The sea was visible again, and bungalows appeared, 


33 


34 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


set in gardens. White people, Fijis, and East 
Indians crowded the streets. 

“Suva's a sort of crossroads for the South Seas,” 
Donald volunteered. “You can get to anywhere 
you want to go from here. You’re surprised, of 
course, to see asphalt streets and electric lights. 
See that motion picture theater over there? I can 
show you a Carnegie library, a fine museum, and a 
wonderful botanical garden also.” 

“I am surprised,” Nancy admitted. 

A strange array of school children was crossing 
the street. There were many fuzzy-haired Fijian 
boys and girls, walking two by two with a black 
teacher behind them. A woman missionary es¬ 
corted a class of Fijian girls in clean white dresses, 
much like their brothers’ vests and sulus. Their 
feet and legs were bare. A group of tiny East 
Indian girls dressed in gauzy clothes followed. 
These were the children of the coolie laborers. 

“There seem to be a number of East Indians,” 
Nancy observed. “They aren’t so spectacular as 
the Fijis, but they’re more in evidence.” 

“I understand that there are about ninety thou¬ 
sand Fijis on these islands,” Uncle Lee volun¬ 
teered. “There are, I’d say, less than five thousand 
Europeans, and most of them live here in Suva, or 
in Levuka. As for the East Indians, you aren’t so 
far off in your guess, Nancy. They are almost 
equal to the Fijis in number.” 

They drove out past the golf links, and the War 
Memorial Hospital. 





THE CANNIBAL FARMERS 


35 



Ewing Galloway 

A FIJIAN HOUSE 

“The Fiji Islanders who took part in the great 
World War had to pay their own expenses to the 
field of action,” Uncle Lee said. “Transportation 
was too expensive for England to attempt.” 

The residential district proved to be beautiful 
and as modern as that of any American city. 
Prince’s Road was an admirable highway, and the 
Rewa River, with its fifty miles of navigable 
stream, appeared almost tranquil. 

Lunching at the Grand Pacific Hotel was as 
uneventful as lunching at the Waldorf, except for 
one thing. Again and again, from this table and 
that, gay, booming laughter rang out. It proved 




36 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


infectious. Peter and Donald soon joined in. So 
did Uncle Lee. So did Nancy. 

“I never expected to be laughing like this in the 
Fiji Islands,” Nancy declared, “and especially not 
in the company of the grandsons and granddaugh¬ 
ters of cannibals.” 

After lunch Uncle Lee asked, “How would you 
like to visit a Fijian village?” 

“Pll wait here in Suva for you,” Donald said 
quickly. “You won’t enjoy the climbing in vol¬ 
canic soil. It’s soapstone, you know, and those 
sidehills are like grease. Besides, it’s damp and 
hot, and it takes so long to eat a native meal that 
you waste hours of good time when you might be 
seeing the ferns.” 

The MacLarens, however, were not to be dis¬ 
couraged. Uncle Lee hired a boat and a guide. 
They followed the Rewa River up to a village where 
Peter and Nancy caught their first glimpse of 
Fijian houses, made of bamboo, like square laundry 
hampers but heavily thatched to keep out the rain. 

Guests were welcome in the village at which the 
MacLarens landed. Life seemed simple and lei¬ 
surely. 

The taro was planted merely by sticking the top 
of a taro root into the ground. A joint of sugar 
cane in the soil grew into a sugar-cane plant with 
startling rapidity. A shoot of a banana tree pro¬ 
duced a fine bunch of bananas in a short time. 
Nature, by means of heat and moisture, did most of 
the work. 



THE CANNIBAL FARMERS 


37 


One young man in the village spoke exceptionally 
good English. Ratu was, as it happened, a gradu¬ 
ate of a university. He wore, however, the cos¬ 
tume of his countrymen, a cotton vest and a sulu. 
The sulu was much like the Samoan lava-lava. 

Later when Ratu.came to the hotel for dinner he 
appeared in strange evening dress. He wore a white 
shirt, a full-dress coat, and a sulu, but his feet and 
legs were bare. From the waist up, he was a 
British gentleman; from the waist down, he was a 
native Fiji. 

The inevitable dinner appeared. It was served 
inside the neat hut, and eaten from fresh leaves 
spread over mats on the floor. Donald was right. 
It was lengthy. Boiled yams were served first. 
Later some boiled tea in a pot made its appearance. 
In another hour a boiled fowl was brought in. The 
woman who had cooked it offered some to Nancy 
on a purple slice of taro root. Later some boiled 
green bananas were served. The MacLarens ate 
alone, while a group of natives looked on. Nancy 
tried to persuade a doll-like little girl to share her 
meal, but the child hid behind her grinning brother 
and could not be persuaded. After the MacLarens 
had finished their meal, the chief ate his; then the 
visiting guide was fed, and finally the onlookers. 

“Worse for those little fellows than second table 
at Thanksgiving time on the farm,” Peter sympa¬ 
thized. 

Uncle Lee was delighted with the house. It had 
been built on a platform to keep out the dampness, 



38 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


and this particular house had four doors. Although 
it looked like a big wicker basket, it was most care¬ 
fully constructed. Its rooftree had been made of 
two tree-fern trunks with the root ends projecting. 
Stout trees formed the wall struts, which were 
about eight feet high.. Leaves of sugar cane and 
palm formed the intricate thatching. The Mac- 
Larens entered the house on a sloping plank into 
which steps had been notched. The inside was neat 
and clean. Every native who entered washed his 
feet first in the wooden bowl of water outside the 
door. 

Both on the lower part of the floor and on the 
raised part, there were many palm-leaf mats with 
fringes carefully tied. In one corner a fireplace 
had been sunk, and in the corner opposite the fire¬ 
place was a couchlike bed. In another corner hung 
a kava bowl and dipper near a cooking pot. The 
cooking pot was a hand-molded jar that was so 
rounded it had to be set on three inverted jars when 
put over the fire. A young girl showed Nancy a 
carved comb made of shell. 

Crossing the River Rewa, as they continued their 
journey, the MacLarens reached the edge of a big 
sugar plantation. Hindus were present every¬ 
where, pounding out their rice or winnowing it for 
their own use. The sugar cane they were harvest¬ 
ing was, of course, for the British firm that was 
employing them. They seemed happy and con¬ 
tented, and certainly they were not so crowded as 
they had been in Madras. 





THE CANNIBAL FARMERS 


39 


Peter spent most of his precious time watching 
the Hindus unload the sugar cane from the barges 
onto the elevator of the mill. Here the stalks were 
broken and crushed between heavy rollers to ex¬ 
tract the sweet juice. Water was added, and some¬ 
times a chemical, to thin the juice so that it could 
be strained. Then it was boiled down into coarse 
brown sugar. The MacLarens found it not un¬ 
palatable. 

“IPs going to Auckland to be refined, 1 ” Uncle Lee 
explained. 

“That’s where we’re going next,” Peter declared. 
“Pm glad Donald isn’t here to add, To be refined.’ ” 

The MacLarens were guests of the British over¬ 
seer for the night but returned to Suva the follow¬ 
ing day to see the raw sugar loaded onto ships of 
commerce. The native Fijis might object to 
laboring day in and day out on a sugar plantation, 
but they made fine stevedores. One of the sailors 
pointed out a muscular young giant shouldering a 
bag of sugar that it would have taken more than 
one white man to lift. 

Other shipments were being placed on board the 
boat in the harbor. There were quantities of dried 
fish and trepang, a dried product made from the 
sea cucumber. These foods were being sent to 
China to be used for soup. 

“There’s one export not so obvious,” Uncle Lee 
said. “Pearls! The Fijis are like fish in the 
water and often bring up valuable pearls that find 
a market in Europe or in the United States.” 



40 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

THE FIJIS MAKE FINE STEVEDORES 


A drive into the country before leaving Suva 
gave the MacLarens a view of many simple farms 
with their patches of taro and yams, breadfruit and 
banana trees, and coconut palms. 

“The Fijis are also very fond of greens to go 
with their fish or fowl or pork,” Uncle Lee re¬ 
marked to Nancy. 

The yams that Peter and Nancy saw had been 
planted in small mounds of earth, two or three feet 
apart. Between the rows, ditches had been dug to 
drain off surplus moisture. Bamboo poles had been 
laid across forked sticks to support the vines. 

“Yams are much like our potatoes, too,” Uncle 









THE CANNIBAL FARMERS 


41 


Lee said. “When the vines become dry and brown, 
it’s a sign the yams are ripe. Great Britain uses 
the surplus sugar of Fiji, but she can’t depend upon 
surplus yams. Yams are the great home product.” 

Peter was much interested in the open sheds into 
which the harvested yams had been piled. It was 
necessary to keep them out of the rain. 

“Just as we pick off potato sprouts from our po¬ 
tatoes,” Uncle Lee explained, “the Fiji picks the 
sprouts off his yams.” 

“And in this climate, they sprout faster than our 
potatoes sprout, I imagine,” Peter remarked. 

On the little farms the MacLarens saw many 
fine, sweet pineapples, some lemons, patches of tea 
bushes, and often tobacco. Saucy little birds, called 
mynas, twittered in the trees and there were a 
few bright parrot-like birds. 

Wherever there was water, on lake, river or sea, 
there were canoes. The great dugout canoes inter¬ 
ested Peter most of all. He knew how proud—how 
justly proud—the Fijis were of their canoes. 

“These canoes,” Uncle Lee said, “travel, not only 
between the Fiji Islands, but to the Solomon and 
the Polynesian Islands.” 

“Imagine coming from Pago Pago to Suva in a 
canoe!” Nancy exclaimed. 

“It can be done—if you employ Fijian sailors,” 
observed Uncle Lee as he smiled broadly. 

Morning found the MacLarens and Donald back 
on the fine liner that was all ready with fuel to pro¬ 
ceed on its journey. 



42 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


“About time we got our bearings,” Uncle Lee 
decided as he settled down into a luxurious chaise 
longue on deck. “Now, the Fiji Islands are about a 
thousand miles south of the equator. About how 
far does that make them from New Zealand?” 

Both Peter and Nancy laughed as they settled in 
chairs facing Uncle Lee. 

“It makes the distance about a thousand miles,” 
Peter guessed. “We’re sailing south again—south¬ 
ward, ever southward. You wouldn’t think there 
was so much southernly direction on the globe, 
would you?” 

“Remember this fact,” Uncle Lee said. “The 
Fijis are on the other side of the globe from Green¬ 
wich, England. In fact, the International Date 
Line formerly ran through Taveuni. Ever hear 
about the Scotch storekeeper?” 

Peter and Nancy had heard many Scotch stories 
from Uncle Lee, but they welcomed a new one. 

“Tell us,” they urged. 

“This Scotchman built a store on Taveuni,” 
Uncle Lee recounted, “right across this line. Cus¬ 
tomers on the east side who objected to buying 
goods on Sunday could walk across the shop and 
use the west side. On the west side it would be 
Monday.” 

The two young travelers were laughing as the 
boat pulled out of Suva’s harbor. They waved at 
Ratu and watched until his black woolly hair be¬ 
came only a speck on the shores of what had once 
been a cannibal isle. 



THE LONG BRIGHT LAND 


F OR three days since leaving Fiji, the big liner 
had been steaming steadily almost due south. 
The sea was a blue-green of a delightful shade, and 
the air fairly sparkled. Slowly and gracefully the 
boat made its way, following a winding course 
through the myriad islands of the Hauraki Gulf 
before tying up in one of the harbors of the thriving 
city of Auckland. Uncle Lee, standing between 
Peter and Nancy at the deck rail, looked toward 
the “great, high, bold land” as the discoverer, Abel 
Tasman, had called New Zealand. 

“We’re in Waitemata Harbor, I believe,” Uncle 
Lee remarked. “Over there in the distance is 
Rangitoto Island, famous for its volcano and its 
scenic beauty. Well, we’re entering a country 
often called Old England in the South Pacific. Yet 
there’s hardly a traveler who doesn’t find some¬ 
thing in it to compare with the best in his own 
country. The name New Zealand suggests Hol¬ 
land, but that is certainly a misnomer, for Zeeland 
is low, flat land, and this is nothing if not moun¬ 
tainous. But I suppose Abel Tasman wanted to 
compliment his native land.” 

“Captain James Cook was the first explorer, 
wasn’t he, Uncle Lee?” Peter inquired. “I read 
that his claims were at first rejected. Later the 
English hoisted their flag to keep the French out.” 


43 


44 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 


MOUNTAIN JUNGLE COUNTRY 


“The earliest colonists were the Maoris, of 
course,” Uncle Lee mused. “They came here dur¬ 
ing the fourteenth century in canoes. If you think 
that was not a feat, think of the distance we’ve 
come. It is said they came from their native home, 
Hawaiki, which geographers now believe might 
have been Tahiti, or the Cook Islands. It is thought 
that they followed the sailing directions of the fa¬ 
mous Polynesian navigator, Kupe, who had been 
here about four hundred years before. The Maoris 
were guided only by the stars and by a knowledge 
of winds and ocean currents. The Southern Cross 
was to them something more than mere beauty in 
the heavens.” 



THE LONG BRIGHT LAND 


45 



Ewing Galloway 


A MAORI WAR DANCE 


“Queer that they didn’t name the land,” Nancy 
observed. 

“They did,” Uncle Lee declared. “They called 
it Aotearoa, which means, some think, The Land 
of Long Daylight, or, The Long Bright Land. That 
seems the best translation and the best description 
of New Zealand.” 

“Donald says,” Peter put in, “that although the 
capital is named after Wellington, the Iron Duke 
himself was much against annexing New Zealand. 
Now the British are proud of their stepchild.” 

Donald joined the MacLarens, his eyes shining. 

“When you see New Zealand, you see every¬ 
thing!” he cried. “It’s only about the size of your 





46 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


Wyoming, but in it you’ll find peaks like those in 
Switzerland. You’ll see geysers like those in your 
Yellowstone, volcanoes like the ones in Japan, and 
lakes such as you’ve probably seen in Ireland.” 

“Go on, go on,” Peter said sarcastically, not be¬ 
lieving that Donald actually could continue. 

“There are mineral springs like those in Czecho¬ 
slovakia, fiords like the ones in Norway, and water¬ 
falls higher than the highest ones in the Yosemite,” 
Donald recited. 

“Don’t tell us everything,” Nancy begged. “Oh, 
Auckland is a lovely town. See those trees in the 
distance! They must be pines.” 

“New Zealand,” Donald added, “is the home of 
the kauri pines. They’re almost as big as the red¬ 
woods in California.” 

“That ‘almost’ must have come hard,” Peter 
teased. 

“Let me join this ‘Believe-It-or-Not’ party,” 
Uncle Lee cried gaily. “New Zealand may have its 
giant pines, but it is also the home of the smallest 
known member of the pine family. On the other 
hand, the fuchsias are not much like the ones we 
grow in the house in the wintertime. They grow 
high like trees. You’ll find buttercups here as big 
as sunflowers.” 

“Go on, go on!” urged Nancy, her eyes shining 
with merriment. 

“I can!” Uncle Lee was waxing enthusiastic. 
“Many of New Zealand’s native birds cannot fly. 
Stranger still, settlers have imported all the domes- 





THE LONG BRIGHT LAND 


47 



Ewing Galloivay 

A NEW ZEALAND SHEEP STATION 


tic animals such as dogs and sheep and even the 
cows that form so large a part of the country's 
industry." 

“My uncle has a ranch there—Uncle Cecil," 
Donald boasted. “It's a very successful ranch, too. 
It has good pasture, and, of course, shipping is 
easy. No place in New Zealand is more than 
seventy-five miles from the sea." 

“Cattle ranch?" inquired Peter. “I should think 
you'd enjoy being a cowboy out there." 

“Sheep!" Donald corrected. “He raises sheep 
for wool and mutton. You know, New Zealand 
is the fifth largest wool-producing country in the 



48 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


world, as well as the seventh largest sheep-raising. 
And wherever you’ve been, you have never seen 
sheep like ours.” 

“All right.” Peter accepted the challenge in 
Donald’s tone. “Show them to me! Sheep are 
sheep!” 

“Not these!” Donald insisted, proudly and mys¬ 
teriously. “Mr. MacLaren, please come out to the 
ranch. Uncle Cecil is to meet me in Auckland and 
I know he’ll insist on your visiting us when he 
realizes how you’ve looked after me.” 

“Thank you. We’ll see about that later,” Uncle 
Lee answered. “We’re about to land.” 

“Looks like a big city,” Peter remarked as the 
MacLaren party crowded down the gangplank with 
the many passengers. 

“Over two hundred thousand people,” Uncle Lee 
pronounced. “Auckland once served New Zealand 
as a capital, and it’s still the largest city.” 

As soon as the MacLarens had settled their be¬ 
longings in a hotel on Queen’s Street, they took a 
taxi to the very center of the city. Climbing to the 
top of Mount Eden—it seemed strange, Nancy re¬ 
marked, to be climbing a mountain right in the 
heart of a city—they looked from the edge of a 
crater down on Auckland, a city of green foliage 
and red roofs. But it was the larger view that 
astounded Peter and Nancy. 

“It’s the queerest-looking landscape I ever saw 
anywhere,” Peter was puzzled. “What are those 
things? Volcanoes?” 



THE LONG BRIGHT LAND 


49 


“Yes,” Uncle Lee replied. “Within a radius of 
ten miles you can see sixty burnt-out volcanic 
cones, some bulgy, others the proper cone shape.” 

“The city is almost surrounded by water,” 
Nancy pointed out. “At least it looks that way.” 

“Auckland is built on an isthmus,” Uncle Lee 
explained. “On one side of the isthmus you see 
Waitemata Harbor with our ship at anchor. This 
harbor looks toward the Pacific, of course. On the 
other side of the isthmus is Manukau Harbor, 
opening westward to the Tasman Sea. The isthmus 
is only eight miles wide at its widest point.” 

Uncle Lee hired a little roadster and took the chil¬ 
dren about the city. The parks proved to be as 
beautiful as they were numerous. The entrance to 
the famous Ellerslie Racecourse, Auckland's sport¬ 
ing center, was a palm-lined avenue bordered with 
a well-kept lawn and gardens. 

The white towers of Auckland University rose 
in the midst of a verdant campus with conventional 
flower beds. 

The War Memorial Museum, a massive white 
Grecian building, claimed the MacLarens' un¬ 
stinted praise. Here were to be found the relics of 
the Maoris, New Zealand's native race. The elab¬ 
orately carved storehouses and war canoes fasci¬ 
nated Peter. He could not have been persuaded to 
leave if Uncle Lee had not promised him a visit to 
the Glowworm Caves. 

The road leading southward out of the city was 
a smooth ribbon of concrete and asphalt. The 



50 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 


THE WAR MEMORIAL MUSEUM 


country was all rolling hills and valleys where sleek 
cattle and fat sheep pastured. 

“New Zealand has earned its present prosper¬ 
ity,” said Uncle Lee. “The early colonists fought 
many long wars with the Maoris, just as our early 
colonists fought many long wars with the Indians. 
Like our own countrymen, the New Zealanders 
lived through a gold rush, a land boom, and a de¬ 
pression, and they came out with colors flying.” 

Uncle Lee pointed out former battlegrounds 
where the Maori and the British had met. A boys’ 
school had been built on a hill overlooking one of 
the old battlefields. Past Mercer and Hamilton, 
pleasant provincial towns, sped the car. Uncle Lee 
turned off the main road, driving west, and finally 
brought the car to a stop. 










THE LONG BRIGHT LAND 


51 


The Glowworm Grotto proved to be the most 
magical, most enchanting, and unusual cave that 
Peter and Nancy ever had visited. There was a 
subterranean stream in the cave. Overhead, as the 
party floated along in boats, millions of tiny insects 
glowed like embers. Whatever they were, they 
covered the entire roof and gave off a strange, 
weird, bluish-green light. In fact the entire under¬ 
ground passage glowed. The ceiling and walls of 
the caves were reflected in the still water with an 
eerie beauty. 

The two much-traveled children were so awed 
by this unique sight that they forebore to ask any 
questions until they were in the car again, speed¬ 
ing back to Auckland. 

Then Uncle Lee explained that the larvae of the 
glowworm are cradled in a filmy web from which 
filaments hang down. These filaments, that appear 
to be hung with very little pearls, are really merely 
sticky. Tiny moths and other small insects, 
attracted by the eerie, beautiful glow, touch the 
filaments, and are caught and consumed. 

“I’d rather not know such details,” Nancy de¬ 
clared. “That was the most beautiful, and the most 
fantastic sight I ever have seen.” 

At the hotel, while waiting for dinner, Peter 
turned on the radio. Then he shouted, “Come 
here, Uncle Lee! Nancy! Here’s something to 
remember your caves by.” 

An orchestra was playing, “Shine, little glow¬ 
worm, glimmer, glimmer.” 





A WINDY CITY AND THE KIWI 


U NCLE LEE had accepted an invitation from 
Donald's uncle to visit his ranch, and next 
morning Donald appeared, his face alight with 
happiness. 

“Hello,” he said. “Ready? We're on our way 
to my uncle's station. He's waiting for us outside 
with the car.” 

“Station!” Peter and Nancy repeated, and 
Peter said, “Thought you said your uncle owned a 
sheep ranch.” 

“A ranch is called a station here,” Donald ex¬ 
plained. “You'll get used to our expressions, now 
that you're ‘down under.' Do you know what a 
jackaroo is?” 

“Well, what's a jackaroo?” demanded Nancy, be¬ 
fore Peter could answer this sally. 

“It's a name given to a new hand, one who is just 
learning station life,” Donald explained. “The 
jackaroo has to learn to mend fences, to see that the 
water holes are full, and to do other odd jobs. In 
addition he cares for around seven thousand 
sheep.” 

Donald's uncle proved to be a big, hearty man 
with sandy hair and mustache and bright blue 
eyes. With Uncle Lee beside him in the front seat 
and Peter and Nancy in the back with Donald, Mr. 
Powrie turned the car toward Waitomo. 


52 


A WINDY CITY AND THE KIWI 


53 


Waitomo, however, was soon left behind as the 
car rolled up hill and down dale, and through the 
Awakino Valley to the seacoast. In the distance a 
beautiful high peak began to take shape. 

“That scene ahead looks like the Fujiyama scene 
that is painted on the silk fan Uncle Lee bought 
me in Japan,” Nancy cried. 

“That’s Mount Egmont,” Donald said. “And it 
does look like Fuji. You’ll notice the resemblance 
even more clearly as we go nearer. Skirting 
around its base, you’ll see a volcanic knob on one 
side, just like Fuji’s. The Maoris call the moun¬ 
tain Taranaki. There’s a popular saying about it: 
‘When you see the top of Egmont, be prepared for 
rain; when you can’t see it, it is raining.’ ” 

Both Peter and Nancy laughed. It was easy 
enough to see that the rolling pastures and culti¬ 
vated fields were not suffering from lack of 
moisture. 

“Ahead is the Wanganui Bridge,” Donald 
pointed out. “The views of the sea are lovely from 
here, aren’t they!” 

Peter’s eyes, however, were not on the view 
ahead. They were on the bridge sign which he 
read aloud: Motorists Are Required to Give 
Stock Preference. 

A flock of sheep, the biggest, broadest-backed 
sheep Peter and Nancy ever had seen, were milling 
over the bridge. Up on the hillsides there appeared 
to be terraces, but Mr. Powrie explained that they 
were actually the trails of countless sheep. 



54 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


A few hours later the car turned into a long 
drive between rolling hills. Mr. Powrie’s station 
proved to be altogether modern. There was a 
large square house of stone with verandas run¬ 
ning around the four sides. Behind and away 
from the house appeared a number of sheds and 
runways. 

Mrs. Powrie welcomed Donald with open arms, 
and she seemed almost as delighted to meet Peter 
and Nancy. After a lunch of lamb chops, fresh 
vegetables, and fruits, all of which Mrs. Powrie 
declared were home-grown, the children were given 
ponies on which to ride about the station. 

There were miles and miles of fence and thou¬ 
sands upon thousands of sheep, all feeding like one, 
heads bent to nibble at the good, green grass which 
Donald said was there all the year round. It was 
Nancy who shouted suddenly, “Look! What’s 
the matter with that sheep over there?” 

A big ram lay at the base of a little hill, feet 
kicking in the air. 

“Come on!” shouted Donald. “We’ll have to 
turn him right side up.” 

The three children dismounted. 

“He’s so broad backed,” Donald explained, “that 
he can’t turn himself over. Come on and help. 
That’s right. Push! Push! Now, all together! 
Push!” 

The ram was glad indeed to have his legs under 
him again. Donald, patting him proudly, said, 
“He’s a fine Merino, and his coat has enough wool 




A WINDY CITY AND THE KIWI 


55 


in it to keep your whole family warm — even in 
your cold state of Minnesota!” 

From the station the MacLarens made many 
excursions out into the New Zealand country. The 
Wanganui River near by was very picturesque, 
cutting through the high, bush-covered hills and 
the cliff like walls of rock. 

“How far is Wellington?” Peter asked at break¬ 
fast one morning. “We must see the capital of 
New Zealand.” 

“Only about 125 miles,” Donald answered as he 
drank his fragrant tea. “We’ll make it in half a 
day. By the way, I suppose you two don’t know 
that Wellington is called The Windy City.” 

“That’s what we call Chicago back home,” Nancy 
exclaimed. 

“Wellington is windier,” Donald insisted. “Uncle 
will take us wherever we want to go today. I’ll 
tell him that Wellington gets a unanimous vote. 
But before we leave, I want to show you some¬ 
thing. Through?” Donald pushed back his chair. 
“It was there in the woods beyond the sheds early 
this morning. And it’s undoubtedly there now.” 

“What are you talking about?” Peter demanded. 

“A bird,” Donald answered. “A kiwi.” 

“When Donald comes to visit us, you look up a 
bluebird some morning, Peter,” Nancy suggested, 
her eyes sparkling mischievously, “and then we’ll 
take Donald out to see it. You needn’t think we’re 
absolute jackaroos, Donald.” 

Donald, however, was not joking. He led his 



56 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

THE WINGLESS KIWI 

two visitors to the woods, and there he pointed out 
what looked for all the world like a ball of coarse 
gray and brown feathers without any fluffiness. 
When Donald touched the ball, it moved. The 
kiwi, he explained, had nocturnal habits, much like 
American owls, and the kiwi acted much like a 
sleepy owl. He blinked and changed his position, 
resting himself on his stout, strong legs and feet 
and a third point, his queer, long bill. Donald 
pointed out that the bill was flexible and that it had 
two nostrils at the tip. With this bill the kiwi 
searches for earthworms, so said Donald. 



A WINDY CITY AND THE KIWI 


57 



Eiving Galloway 

WELLINGTON, THE WINDY CITY OF THE PACIFIC 

“He’s not what you’d call handsome,” Nancy 
remarked as she patted the coarse, incomplete 
feathers. 

“Wouldn’t want a whole flock of such hens for 
the county fair, would you, Nancy?” Peter teased. 

“Wouldn’t need a flock, at least not for egg pro¬ 
duction,” Donald put in. “The kiwi hen lays eggs 
that weigh just one quarter her own weight. Ask 
Uncle, if you don’t believe me. There he is now. 
I’ll tell him we’d like to go to Wellington.” 

Nancy gave the sad-looking kiwi a farewell pat, 
then raced after the boys. 



58 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


Mr. Powrie declared there was more to see than 
Wellington, and that they must go prepared for a 
trip of several days. 

The miles disappeared like magic. Wellington 
became something more to Peter and Nancy than a 
name in a geography. Perched on the steep hills 
that almost enclosed the bay of Port Nicholson, the 
children could view almost all of it at once. The 
houses rose, tier on tier, above the business section. 
Cable cars climbed up and up. The gales that so 
often swept the city, according to Donald, were 
nowhere present. The day was warm and bright, 
and the white marble Parliament Buildings of the 
main plaza gleamed in the sunshine. The city 
looked well kept and well managed. There were 
a great many plazas, and flower beds without 
number. 

Beyond the Parliament Buildings Mr. Powrie 
pointed out a wooden building which he declared 
to be the largest wooden building in the world. 

“And what is that handsome marble shaft at the 
end there?” Uncle Lee inquired. 

“That is the carillon tower built in honor of our 
World War heroes,” Mr. Powrie explained. 

“That's a remarkable equestrian statue on top,” 
Uncle Lee added, walking toward it. 

Standing beside the tower, they could look out 
across the red roofs of the city and down toward 
the city's harbor. 

“If it were not for our sheltered harbor,” Mr. 
Powrie told the MacLarens, “ships could not land, 






Ewing Galloway 

THE HOUSES ROSE TIER ON TIER 



60 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


and possibly Wellington would not have grown so 
rapidly. You see, as it is, we get foreign shipping 
trade from both the east and the west, as well as 
the shipping trade between our own two islands.” 

“It is really the leading port of New Zealand,” 
Donald added. 

“Certainly it is an ideal capital city,” said Uncle 
Lee. 

While Uncle Lee and Mr. Powrie talked of other 
New Zealand cities, the children looked longingly 
toward the docks, for Donald had been telling Peter 
and Nancy the story of Pelorus Jack. Pelorus 
Jack, it seemed, was a giant dolphin who used to 
meet the boats and escort them into Pelorus Sound 
or to the French Pass. The Maoris insisted that for 
275 years, Pelorus Jack had led ships along the 
right course, darting playfully ahead of them. 

“Wish he were still alive.” Donald sighed. 
“But even without the help of Pelorus Jack, the 
trip to Nelson on South Island is fun. That’s the 
fruit country, you know.” 

“Come on, youngsters.” Uncle Lee, who had 
overheard the conversation, was grinning. “Mr. 
Powrie and I have decided that we might as well 
continue our trip. We’re running the car on board 
that ship in the harbor, and we’re bound for Nelson 
and some good eating apples.” 

The all-night trip ended in a bright dawn. The 
weather was golden, and Mr. Powrie explained 
that in record years the Nelson district had 
averaged eight hours of sunshine a day. After 



A WINDY CITY AND THE KIWI 


61 


breakfast on the boat, the party drove out into the 
country, past apple orchards, past hop gardens, and 
through rich vineyards. 

On southward went the car into beautiful moun¬ 
tain scenery right up to the Buller Gorge. The road 
followed the Buller River for sixty miles, often 
proceeding along a narrow ledge in the wooded 
hills. Then, following the coastal road, the car 
wound down into Westland, the coal district. 

“Not only coal, but gold as well,” Mr. Powrie 
explained. 

“And here in Westland,” Donald added, “is 
found the greenstone, an inferior grade of jade 
that the Maoris prize so highly. Many a fine 
greenstone has been found in the Arahura River 
not far away. For that reason the Arahura is 
considered sacred. The little figures that the 
Maoris wear around their necks have been carved 
from greenstone. These little figures are called 
tikis. Maybe we can get one for Nancy to remem¬ 
ber New Zealand by.” 

“I won’t need a tiki,” Nancy said happily. “But 
I’m quite greedy. I feel as though I never could 
get enough of New Zealand.” 

“I too!” Peter exclaimed fervently. 



64 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


windbreaks at home. Uncle Lee pointed out one 
field where flax was planted. It would be ready 
to come up early in the spring. The fiber from the 
long leaves of the plant, Uncle Lee explained, was 
used like hemp in making rope. 

The town of Christchurch, which Mr. Powrie 
called the City of the Plains, came into view as a 
spire against the sky. 

Donald said, “When the English came here in 
1850, they were homesick, I imagine, and they 
tried to build a Canterbury like the one they’d left 
behind. Of course, they wanted it to be more 
prosperous.” 

“And it is!” Donald’s uncle put in. 

The car pulled up at a curb in the central square 
of the town. Here stood the English Cathedral 
with the tower which the travelers had already 
seen from a distance. From this attractive square 
with its substantial buildings and flower beds, 
radiated the streets of the city. They were all 
named after Anglican bishoprics. 

Peter and Nancy, and Donald as well, were most 
interested in the river Avon which meandered 
through the city. The children left their elders to 
stroll along its banks beneath poplars, willows, and 
groups of eucalyptus trees. 

“I love it!” Nancy exulted. “It’s so like the 
Avon in Stratford where Shakespeare lived. Peter, 
look! The same kind of trees as those on the Avon! 
T know a bank where the wild thyme blows, where 
oxlips and the nodding violet....’” 



A BIT OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND 


65 


“Never mind the singing!” Peter interrupted. 
“Look at the bridges.” 

“Do you know that there are twenty-six bridges 
in all?” said Donald. “That’s where this Avon 
differs from the original Avon.” 

Back again in the central square, the visitors got 
into the car and moved on to Canterbury Univer¬ 
sity College. Its heavy stone walls and lovely 
campus made Peter exclaim, “Oxford!” and Nancy 
cry, “Cambridge!” Then they both laughed, and 
Donald shouted, “Correct!” 

A few moments later he added, “Notice some¬ 
thing queer about Christchurch as a port? It 
hasn’t a harbor. But it does the business of a 
port. Its ocean gateway is a few miles away, at 
Port Lyttelton. Port Lyttelton is a fine town, set 
among volcanic hills but with a good harbor. It 
exports wheat and refrigerated meat.” 

The trip did not end in Christchurch. The car 
sped on, down through the Canterbury Plains, 
then into the hills and up through a high pass. 
Mrs. Powrie got out her picnic basket. 

Hearty appetites did justice to the sandwiches 
and fruit as well as the hot drinks from the thermos 
jugs. Then down over the hills and onto the 
plateau of the Mackenzie country rolled the car. 
Peter and Nancy looked out on lovely lakes fed by 
Alpine snow. In the cold, clear air they counted 
fourteen mountain peaks. 

“Why is it called the Mackenzie country?” Peter 
inquired. “I suppose a Mackenzie discovered it.” 



64 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


windbreaks at home. Uncle Lee pointed out one 
field where flax was planted. It would be ready 
to come up early in the spring. The fiber from the 
long leaves of the plant, Uncle Lee explained, was 
used like hemp in making rope. 

The town of Christchurch, which Mr. Powrie 
called the City of the Plains, came into view as a 
spire against the sky. 

Donald said, “When the English came here in 
1850, they were homesick, I imagine, and they 
tried to build a Canterbury like the one they’d left 
behind. Of course, they wanted it to be more 
prosperous.” 

“And it is!” Donald’s uncle put in. 

The car pulled up at a curb in the central square 
of the town. Here stood the English Cathedral 
with the tower which the travelers had already 
seen from a distance. From this attractive square 
with its substantial buildings and flower beds, 
radiated the streets of the city. They were all 
named after Anglican bishoprics. 

Peter and Nancy, and Donald as well, were most 
interested in the river Avon which meandered 
through the city. The children left their elders to 
stroll along its banks beneath poplars, willows, and 
groups of eucalyptus trees. 

“I love it!” Nancy exulted. “It’s so like the 
Avon in Stratford where Shakespeare lived. Peter, 
look! The same kind of trees as those on the Avon! 
T know a bank where the wild thyme blows, where 
oxlips and the nodding violet....’” 



A BIT OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND 


65 


“Never mind the singing!” Peter interrupted. 
“Look at the bridges.” 

“Do you know that there are twenty-six bridges 
in all?” said Donald. “That’s where this Avon 
differs from the original Avon.” 

Back again in the central square, the visitors got 
into the car and moved on to Canterbury Univer¬ 
sity College. Its heavy stone walls and lovely 
campus made Peter exclaim, “Oxford!” and Nancy 
cry, “Cambridge!” Then they both laughed, and 
Donald shouted, “Correct!” 

A few moments later he added, “Notice some¬ 
thing queer about Christchurch as a port? It 
hasn’t a harbor. But it does the business of a 
port. Its ocean gateway is a few miles away, at 
Port Lyttelton. Port Lyttelton is a fine town, set 
among volcanic hills but with a good harbor. It 
exports wheat and refrigerated meat.” 

The trip did not end in Christchurch. The car 
sped on, down through the Canterbury Plains, 
then into the hills and up through a high pass. 
Mrs. Powrie got out her picnic basket. 

Hearty appetites did justice to the sandwiches 
and fruit as well as the hot drinks from the thermos 
jugs. Then down over the hills and onto the 
plateau of the Mackenzie country rolled the car. 
Peter and Nancy looked out on lovely lakes fed by 
Alpine snow. In the cold, clear air they counted 
fourteen mountain peaks. 

“Why is it called the Mackenzie country?” Peter 
inquired. “I suppose a Mackenzie discovered it.” 



66 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


“Fairly good guess.” Donald spoke up. “There 
was a Jock Mackenzie who decided that this moun¬ 
tainous country would be good sheep-raising 
country. The only trouble with Jock was that he 
borrowed his sheep from some one else’s flock and 
ended up in jail — British law being what it is. 
However, he gave the settlers the idea of raising 
sheep, and since then it’s been a sheep country.” 

That night the party slept in a settler’s cabin 
and on the following morning drove out into the 
open valley past fields and orchards. 

The car passed through the modern town of 
Oamaru, famous for its limestone. Then on to 
Dunedin! 

“Dunedin’s as Scotch as Christchurch is Eng¬ 
lish,” Mrs. Powrie observed. “And it’s as Presby¬ 
terian as Christchurch is Episcopalian.” 

The view of Dunedin burst suddenly upon the 
MacLarens, and Peter cried, ‘*It’s built within a 
natural amphitheater, like Wellington!” 

Nancy cried out, “Oh, what hills!” 

Mr. Powrie declared that there were close to 
ninety thousand people in Dunedin and that its 
woolen mills were famous. 

From a distance they saw a large meat-packing 
plant set back against the hills. It was clean and 
white and neat. The pens outside the buildings 
were overrun with sheep. 

The town itself proved to be as substantial as 
Edinburgh. The schools and the university were 
built of stone. The churches were built of stone. 



A BIT OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND 


67 



Ewing Galloway 

A MEAT-PACKING PLANT IN DUNEDIN 

The law courts were built of stone. Every single 
citizen looked to be well fed and certainly every 
one was well dressed, with a good bit of plaid in 
evidence. 

“Now we’ve seen the four biggest and most im¬ 
portant cities in New Zealand,” Uncle Lee de¬ 
clared, “Auckland, Wellington, Christchurch, and 
Dunedin. Sorry we have to miss the southernmost 
city, Invercargill. Understand it’s doing a thriv¬ 
ing business in wool and dairying. And we’ll have 
to pass up the Fiordland, that two hundred miles 
of jagged west coast along the south end of New 
Zealand.” 




68 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

THE HOT SPRINGS OF ROTORUA 


“How about Sutherland Falls?” Mr. Powrie in¬ 
quired. “Nineteen hundred feet high, you know. 
I hate to talk in superlatives all the time, but we’ve 
the most remarkable national park — Tongariro, 
it’s called — on North Island.” 

“Can’t see everything,” Uncle Lee decided, “but 
we’re going to visit the regions between Taupo and 
Rotorua. I think we will return to Auckland by 
way of Wairakei.” 

“Let’s go with them,” Donald begged. 

And so it was arranged. 

Peter and Nancy had visited many weird play¬ 
grounds but nothing quite so unique as Rotorua. 



A BIT OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND 


69 



Ewing Galloway 

INTERIOR OF A MAORI HOME 


It was a hot-springs wonderland. The little party 
made its headquarters at the native Maori village 
of Whakarewarewa, luckily shortened for pronun¬ 
ciation to Whaka. 

They visited a Maori house. The woodwork was 
beautifully and elaborately carved, a characteristic 
of Maori homes. Here it was easy to secure an 
educated Maori girl as a guide. For the purpose 
of being picturesque she wore a native ceremonial 
costume. She was decidedly handsome with her 
black hair, fine dark eyes, and good features. A 
headband bound her long, dark tresses. Her cape 
of native flax was trimmed with feathers and 
colored thread. The kiltlike skirt had been made 







Herbert Photos 


A MAORI WOMAN AND CHILD 


A BIT OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND 


71 


of hard strips of twisted fiber, threaded together 
in an attractive style. 

She showed the party a cold trout stream, close 
by the mud pots. Geysers spouted steam noisily, 
and one mud pool boiled with a strange, rhythmic, 
plop-plop sound. 

The guide knew every strange spot. She es¬ 
corted the children about and, on their return to 
the village, showed them some of the fine carving 
her brother had done, as well as the rugs her 
mother had made. The brother also wore a cere¬ 
monial costume for the occasion. It was of thick 
flax matting. His cape was made of feathers of 
the wingless kiwi. 

“Contrary to foreign opinion,” Mr. Powrie ob¬ 
served, “the Maoris are not dying out. There are 
some seventy-five thousand of them here now, about 
one for every twenty other persons in the 
Dominion.” 

On the following morning the children of the 
party watched the Maori women setting their ket¬ 
tles into the hot springs to cook their meal. House¬ 
wives in the Whakarewarewa village were not 
bothered with cooking stoves and ranges. They had 
no gas bills; their hot water was always on tap— 
an inexhaustible supply. The women placed their 
potatoes and meat in separate bags, tied them with 
a string and lowered them into a hot pool to cook. 

Many of the women also did beautiful laundry 
work in the springs. It was hard for the children 
to leave when Uncle Lee called to them. 



72 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Philip D. Gendreau 

COOKING IN A HOT POOL 


The thin-crusted earth behind them where vol¬ 
canic activity was rearing up in the form of gey¬ 
sers, boiling mud baths, and hot springs seemed 
like a dream. But the roaring steam holes or 
fumaroles could still be heard for many minutes 
after the car had pulled out of the beautiful region. 

The men talked politics all the way to Auckland. 
Peter and Nancy heard snatches of conversation: 
“No poverty here. No extreme wealth. No slums.” 

Peter smiled when he heard Uncle Lee’s polite 
murmurs of assent as Mr. Powrie warmed to the 
subject of New Zealand as a model government. 




A BIT OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND 


73 


From Auckland, the MacLarens and the Powries 
took one last trip together. They drove through 
a forest of kauri trees on the narrow peninsula 
north of Auckland. Mr. Powrie explained that not 
only was the lumber valuable but that the gum 
from the trees was used in making paints, var¬ 
nishes, and linoleum. Much was exported, he de¬ 
clared, to the United States. 

Peter noticed that some of the workers were 
climbing the trees, searching for pieces of the valu¬ 
able gum. Others poked into the earth with sharp- 
pointed steels, striving to find great pieces of the 
eucalyptus gum that the tree had shed years and 
years before. 

Tall tree ferns lent their grace to the scene, and 
smaller trees and brush appeared in more open 
spaces of the great forest. 

What a strangely beautiful country it was, with 
its green grass and flowers, its birds that didn't 
need wings, its sheep that need fear scarcely an 
^enemy, and its two different peoples living side by 
"side in peace and harmony. 

“Wouldn't be a bad idea to transplant some of 
these ideas," Uncle Lee said as the picnic neared 
its end. 

“I'd like to transplant almost the whole of New 
Zealand," Nancy declared. 

“You mean geographically?" Peter inquired. 

“That's exactly what I mean," Nancy insisted. 

“Very kind of you to say it," exclaimed Donald. 
“Best of all, I know you mean it." 





A STRANGE GATE TO A WONDERFUL 
HARBOR 

I T WAS three days since the MacLarens and 
Donald Powrie had stood on deck and waved 
good-by to their hospitable New Zealand friends. 
Auckland was far behind. Now they were ap¬ 
proaching the shores of Australia. The sea 
sparkled like jewels, but a vast gray cloud appeared 
on the sky line. Did it presage a storm? Presently 
the shadowy smudge took form. It became solid, 
turning into violet-colored hills and brown cliffs. 
Back of the surf that rolled in on the yellow sands, 
the hills looked dun-colored. But as the ship went 
closer, the great banks became a bronze-green 
forest of surpassing beauty. 

“Australia at last!” Peter shouted. “The sixth 
continent!” 

“And the only one south of the equator,” Nancy 
added. 

“And we’re landing at the biggest city in Aus¬ 
tralia,” Donald added as he joined Peter and Nancy 
at the rail. “The oldest, too!” 

“Oldest?” Peter was interested. “How old is 
Sydney?” 

“Supposed to have been founded in 1788, but—” 
Uncle Lee hesitated. “You see, on an inlet near 
Sydney, called Botany Bay, there were explorers 
as early as 1770. Sir Joseph Banks, the botanist 


74 



Australian Press Bureau 

THE RAINBOW BRIDGE AND AN IRREGULAR BAY 







76 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


who named Botany Bay, landed there on his 
first voyage with Captain James Cook. Until 1840 
England sent convicts to Sydney to serve out sen¬ 
tences. Many of them escaped into the bush and 
cleared the land. Some started sheep stations.” 

“The ‘bush !' ” Peter's eyes widened. 

“Yes. The bush is sometimes called the ‘back 
country' because it's back and away from the 
cities,” Uncle Lee added. “You see, there is a 
strip of fertile land along the east coast of Aus¬ 
tralia. West of this strip are the mountains or 
scarps. Beyond them is a high plateau. This pla¬ 
teau slopes down to the plains of Central Aus¬ 
tralia. There are no great rivers in this central 
region. The few shallow ones there are, dry up in 
the summer. There's practically no rain, of course. 
The high land around this inland country shuts off 
the moisture. It's so dry and hot and unlovely that 
it's called the ‘Never, Never Land.' ” 

Peter and Nancy sighed deeply. 

“Too much geography?” Uncle Lee asked. 

“Go on,” Nancy urged. 

“The Dividing Range separates the east from 
the west, and runs from north to south. Sometimes 
it's called the Australian Alps. Some of the peaks 
are seven thousand feet high.” 

“I know all about that from my geography,” 
Nancy interrupted. “Tell us more about the early 
settlers.” 

“I imagine they were happy to find such a good 
climate,” Donald continued. “Most of the early 



A STRANGE GATE TO A WONDERFUL HARBOR 77 


arrivals became squatters. They took what they 
wanted, and they rounded up such sheep as the 
dingoes or wild dogs had left. Some of these 
squatters later became wool kings. Father came 
out as a farmer, and he said that the first garden 
he planted had rich black dirt ten feet deep. Great¬ 
grandfather had a hard time. He was one of the 
first free settlers.” 

“What do you mean by free settlers?” Peter 
asked eagerly. 

“As I have hinted before,” Uncle Lee said, grin¬ 
ning at Peter, “the first Sydney citizens were not 
as you and I. When Governor Phillip landed at 
Sydney in 1788, he brought with him 770 convicts 
and 250 soldiers. But free immigrants, who were 
not guests of the Crown, soon followed, and by 
1830 there were more free settlers than there were 
convicts. Luckily one of those first officers im¬ 
ported some merino sheep from Spain, and that 
started a worth-while industry. Gold and coal 
were discovered, cities sprang up, and all was 
well. You’ll like the whole country.” 

Then a great, natural gateway opened up be¬ 
fore the ship. This gateway was about a mile 
wide, and it was guarded by gigantic rocks. These 
rocks, or headlands, looked like immense piers. 

“The Heads!” Donald exulted. “That’s what 
those two sandstone cliffs are called. They’re about 
three hundred feet high. Once we’re inside, we’ll 
be in calm water. We have one of the biggest, 
finest, most beautiful harbors in the world.” 



78 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


Gracefully the big Matson liner slipped in be¬ 
tween the Heads. Another moment and Peter 
was shouting, “Look, Nancy! That must be the 
Sydney Harbor Bridge! Where’s Uncle Lee? He 
was telling me about it just this morning — called 
it an engineering marvel because it is the largest 
single-arch span in the world. Isn’t it a beauty!” 

“Saves a good deal of ferrying,” Donald re¬ 
marked prosaically. 

With the sun on it, the bridge looked like a shin¬ 
ing silver rainbow. Passing under it, the children 
gazed up at the fragile appearing struts, and Peter 
said, “I want to be a bridge-builder.” 

“Peter always wants to be everything,” Nancy 
explained to Donald. “He’ll probably get lots of 
new ideas down here. It’s fun being in a new 
country.” 

“What do you mean, new country?” Uncle Lee 
asked. “Why, Nancy, this old continent of Aus¬ 
tralia was dry land when Europe and Asia were 
still under water.” 

“What makes you think so?” Nancy inquired, 
watching Uncle Lee to see if he were teasing. 

“It isn’t just a personal opinion,” Uncle Lee as¬ 
sured his niece. “Scientists agree that it is so. 
There are plant forms and animal forms in Aus¬ 
tralia that have long since disappeared in other 
parts of the world.” 

“Such as?” Peter urged. 

“Such as the marsupials, animals that carry 
their young in pouches, ” Uncle Lee answered Peter. 



A STRANGE GATE TO A WONDERFUL HARBOR 79 


“And the great forest of eucalyptus trees! Giant 
lilies, too! And ferns as large as trees!” 

“For an island continent, it seems to be a great 
country,” Nancy remarked dryly. 

“It’s as big as the United States,” Peter re¬ 
minded his sister. “We’re coming up to the docks. 
But we’re not the only ship in the harbor. There’s 
a steamer from South America and several of our 
own. That British battleship is certainly a beauty, 
but that Chinese boat looks more practical than 
ornamental. It has sailed the seven seas, or I miss 
my guess.” 

Nancy looked out over the beautiful city before 
her as she said, “I like cities that rise up from the 
water’s edge onto hills. They look so frank and so 
curious, with the houses peeking over each other’s 
shoulders for a glimpse of us.” 

“We’re anchoring right in the heart of the city,” 
Peter discovered. “Did you ever see bigger eleva¬ 
tors? I suppose they’re full of wheat from New 
South Wales. Sydney is in New South Wales, isn’t 
it, Donald?” 

“Yes, it is.” Donald was straining his eyes to 
catch a glimpse of familiar faces on the shore. “We 
load outgoing ships with wool and coal and frozen 
meat, as well as wheat. In exchange they give us 
foodstuffs and manufactured goods. We also get 
many automobiles from the United States. But we 
have to pay more than you do for a car because the 
duties and freight are so high. Also our gasoline 
costs twice what yours does. It comes from Amer- 



80 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


ica and the East — Funny, but I wrote Dad. Yes, 
there he is now! Hey, Dad!” * 

The MacLarens followed Donald down the gang¬ 
plank and watched him as he ran into the arms of 
a man who looked much like his uncle in New Zea¬ 
land except that this man was bigger and taller. 
Donald’s father welcomed the MacLarens with true 
Western hospitality and insisted that they make 
his home their headquarters. Nor would he listen 
to a refusal but hustled the whole party into a cab, 
remarking, “Mother’s getting dinner, and Alice 
is out picking a bouquet of yellow wattle for the 
young lady here.” 

“Yellow wattle is our national flower,” Donald 
explained. “Maybe you’ve seen it on Australian 
stamps. Alice likes the scent. Dad, are we going 
to have roast beef and Yorkshire pudding for din¬ 
ner? We usually do when we have company.” 

The cab passed through Martin Place, a hand¬ 
some business district of skyscrapers. They were 
not quite so tall as some in America, but many of 
them boasted from ten to fourteen stories. Some 
of the biggest and finest buildings had been con¬ 
structed of yellow sandstone, which Mr. Powrie 
said had been mined in quarries near the city. 

The plate-glass windows of the shops shone, and 
well-dressed people hurried along under the gal¬ 
vanized iron awnings or disappeared into the glass- 
roofed arcades to get out of the hot sun. 

“They all look so tall,” Nancy remarked. “Or 
is it just my imagination?” 



A STRANGE GATE TO A WONDERFUL HARBOR 81 



Ewing Galloway 

THE BUSINESS DISTRICT OF SYDNEY 

“Well, that fellow in front of the chemist’s is 
certainly a cornstalk,” Donald agreed. 

“You don’t mean cornstalk!” Peter laughed 
hilariously. “You mean bean pole.” 

“Not in Australia,” Donald insisted. “A tall 
fellow in Australia is a cornstalk.” 

“Australians have always been noted for their 
fine physiques and splendid heights,” Uncle Lee 
put in. “The Australian crawl calls for a good 
long reach. It seems that the climate develops its 
native sons and its adopted ones, too.” 

Now Donald was pointing out St. Andrew’s, the 









82 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


Episcopal church, and also St. Mary’s, the Roman 
Catholic church. These beautiful buildings were 
fine architectural achievements. 

The cab was turning into a narrow, winding 
street. The MacLarens noticed that it was only 
one of many narrow, winding streets. 

“Something like Boston,” Nancy remarked. 
“Boston streets were once cowpaths, it is said.” 

“It is said,” Donald added good-naturedly, “that 
our streets were planned by a native who stood 
down on the docks and threw a boomerang. Wher¬ 
ever the boomerang curved coming back to his feet, 
a street was made. Ever throw a boomerang?” 

“Peter has,” Nancy boasted. “He demonstrated 
one at a Boy Scout rally.” 

“Here we are!” Mr. Powrie shouted gaily as the 
cab slowed before a lovely stone house surrounded 
with gardens. 

The MacLarens were welcomed by a merry little 
English woman with yellow hair, blue eyes, and a 
rose-leaf complexion. Alice, a fair girl slightly 
older than Nancy, curtsied shyly when she greeted 
the guests. 

There was a fragrance all through the drawing 
room. It came, Nancy discovered, from the great 
jar of golden wattle near the fireplace. The leaves 
were grass green, and the flowers such a golden 
yellow that they seemed like living sunlight. Best 
of all, there was a lingering sweetness about them 
that Nancy would remember long after her visit to 
Australia. 



KOALAS AND EMUS 


“T^vO YOU like sweets, Nancy?” Alice asked as 
they left the dinner table. “Have some lol¬ 
lies. Donald says you call them lollipops. I have 
a shilling to buy some more.” 

“A shilling? Yes, of course!” Nancy bright¬ 
ened. “You’d naturally have British money here. 
Peter and I are familiar with it. We learned to 
know about pounds and shillings in London.” 

“What I like about British pennies,” Peter spoke 
up, “is that they’re worth two of ours.” 

“If you’re so British, maybe you know what a 
tram is,” Donald challenged. “How’d you like to 
take a picnic lunch tomorrow and ride on a tram 
to one of the parks? I’ll introduce you to a platy¬ 
pus and a wallaby.” 

“Oh, Donald!” Alice’s blue eyes sparkled. “Let’s 
show them our pets.” 

Pets! The MacLaren children raced gaily out of 
the house and down the back steps in the wake of 
the Powrie youngsters. Beyond the rose garden, 
near the wall, was their neighbor, Mrs. Warren. 
She was holding what appeared to be two Teddy 
bears come to life. 

“Come here, Aussie!” Donald coaxed, after the 
introduction. One little animal obligingly obeyed. 

“I never, never saw such a sweet little animal!” 
Nancy exclaimed as she stroked the thick, soft, 


83 


84 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

THE KOALA, THE ORIGINAL TEDDY BEAR 

brownish-gray fur. “Is he really as mild as he 
appears to be now?” 

“Oh, yes,” Alice answered. “The koala is one of 
the sweetest tempered of animals. The little ones 




KOALAS AND EMUS 


85 


are so lovable that the native black men used to 
believe that they were the returned souls of babies 
that had died.” 

Peter ruffled the thick fur. There was no visible 
tail. The black nose was prominent and looked like 
a dark patch on the soft little face. The ears were 
uneven, fluffy wads of fur. 

“Notice the toes,” Donald directed. 

Peter and Nancy saw that there were five toes on 
each foot, and that each toe was armed with a 
curved, needle-sharp claw. 

“Don’t koalas ever scratch?” Nancy inquired. 

“Almost never,” Mrs. Warren said. “The koala 
uses his sharp claws to climb trees and to pull down 
branches so that he can get at the eucalyptus leaves. 
They are his steady diet. One of our neighbors 
taught his koala to drink sweetened tea and cakes, 
but it died of indigestion. We stick to eucalyptus 
leaves, don’t we, Aussie? Koalas don’t need any¬ 
thing else. They don’t even drink water. They get 
plenty of juice from the leaves and the little shoots.” 

“Look at the tiny koala!” Nancy pointed to a 
eucalyptus tree close by. “He’s climbing up on his 
mother’s back. Such a dear little bear!” 

“The koala isn’t really a bear at all,” Donald 
explained importantly. “He’s different from most 
animals, and scientists have put him in a sub¬ 
family with the kangaroo. He is a marsupial.” 

“Uncle Lee has told us about that word,” Peter 
remembered. “It comes from marsupium, which 
is a pouch for carrying the young.” 



86 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


“Good!” Donald cried. “At birth the koala is 
only one inch long, and he is carried about for 
months in his mother’s pouch where he nurses and 
keeps warm. No litters among koalas! There’s 
always only one. When the little koala becomes 
strong and furry, he emerges and climbs up on his 
mother’s back. For a long time, however, he’ll 
climb back into the pouch if he becomes frightened. 
Usually he is silent, but when he does cry, it sounds 
just like a human baby’s cry. Notice that he clings 
carefully to the back so that the mother may have 
her claws free to climb with.” 

“The fur is the softest, thickest, loveliest fur,” 
Nancy declared. “You’d make a nice fur coat, lit¬ 
tle koala, even though you are only two feet tall.” 

Mrs. Warren said that koalas used to be killed by 
the hundreds for their fur. Koala fur was shipped 
to all parts of the world. But later, when the little 
animals threatened to become extinct, laws were 
passed protecting them. Today neither the koala 
nor his fur can be exported from Australia. In 
many parts of the world koalas cannot live, no 
matter how well they may be cared for. Koalas are 
native only in eastern and southern Australia and 
nowhere else, not even in any of the neighboring 
islands. 

^ How sleepy Aussie looks!” Nancy observed. 

That’s because he’s an animal of nocturnal 
habits.” Alice excused her pet’s blinking gaze. 

He eats at night and dozes in the branches of the 
trees most of the day.” 



KOALAS AND EMUS 


87 



Publishers’ Photo Service 


AUSTRALIAN LYREBIRDS 

“Put him down, Alice!” Donald begged. “May 
we go over and see the lyrebird, Mrs. Warren? 
He’s the funniest mimic in the world.” 

The children looked over the garden wall. Usu- 




88 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


ally, Donald explained, the lyrebird could be found 
only in thick forests or fern gullies. The bird that 
now came strutting across the velvety green grass 
had been found wounded, by Mrs. Warren. The 
bird itself looked very ordinary, but, suddenly, with 
a graceful flourish, he raised his wonderful, lyre¬ 
shaped tail. The green, blue, and white feathers 
glinted in the sun. Then he began to make strange 
sounds. 

“Now he’s imitating the laugh of the kooka¬ 
burra!” Donald shouted. “Now he’s chattering 
like the parakeets! Now he’s wailing like a dingo. 
A dingo’s a wild dog, you know. Well, have you 
had enough of it?” 

The children returned to the library where their 
elders were visiting. They were talking of Aus¬ 
tralia’s past problems. 

“Not homesick, are you, Nancy?” Mr. Powrie 
inquired. 

“No,” Nancy answered. “Not really homesick.” 

“Homesick people have caused us a great deal of 
worry,” Mr. Powrie declared. “A homesick Scotch¬ 
man once brought some of his purple thistles with 
him from Scotland, and they spread like wildfire. 
Then a homesick Englishman came back here with 
sweet briar. His pink roses grew like weeds in this 
fine climate. One fellow, who missed his fox 
hunts and who, at the same time, planned to get 
rid of the too numerous rabbits, brought some 
foxes with him. Now the foxes are a problem. 
And so it goes.”' 



KOALAS AND EMUS 


89 


“And the moral is: Don’t get homesick!” Nancy 
smiled, and everybody laughed. 

Early the next morning Donald suggested visit¬ 
ing the town hall before going out to the picnic 
park. Peter and Nancy and Alice agreed. 

As they entered the imposing building, Donald 
said. “This town hall has something unique.” 

To the astonishment of the MacLarens, Donald 
and Alice showed them the largest organ south of 
the equator. A guide who had followed the children 
said that this splendid organ had nine thousand 
pipes, some as high as a three-story house, and some 
as small as a pin. The organ provided good music 
at public cost, he said, for all who loved it. 

The tram carried the four picnickers to a park 
on the outskirts of Sydney where Australian 
animals were living in natural surroundings. 

Here Donald pointed out the first kangaroos the 
MacLaren children had seen in Australia. They 
had very short forelegs and very long, strong hind 
legs as well as a remarkably strong tail. 

“Kangaroos are the largest marsupials in Aus¬ 
tralia,” Alice declared. “They carry their young 
in pouches just as the koala does.” 

“They can cover thirty feet in a single bound,” 
Donald added. “Those strong hind legs are made 
for jumping. Better not feed that one, Peter. He’s 
apt to cuff you if he isn’t satisfied—just playfully, 
of course, but you won’t like it.” 

“He wouldn’t really hurt you, though,” Alice 
added. “These kangaroos are very tame.” 



90 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Australian Press Bureau 


KANGAROOS ARE EASILY TAMED 

“We know some people in the country who have 
one for a pet,” Donald told them then. 

“Come on over near the brook,” said Alice. 
“There’s usually a platypus there.” 

She started to lead the way, but Donald and 
Peter, running ahead, discovered the platypus first. 

“Hurry, Nancy,” Peter urged. “You have to see 
it to believe it.” 

The platypus was peculiar. No question about 
that! Donald said it laid eggs like a turtle, but it 
certainly didn’t look like a turtle. It had a broad, 
flat bill like a duck, and yet it didn’t look like a 



KOALAS AND EMUS 


91 



Australian Press Bureau 


THE PLATYPUS, ONE OF THE WORLD’S STRANGEST 
LIVING CREATURES 

duck. It was nearly two feet long, with a tail like 
a beaver. Its feet were webbed, for it spent much 
time in the water. It ate worms, grubs, and insects. 

“Strangest thing about it,” Donald declared, “is 
that it doesn’t just lay eggs and forget about them. 
The platypus supplies milk for its young.” 

“Are all your animals so queer?” Nancy asked. 
“I suppose they are, from your viewpoint,” Don¬ 
ald grinned. “There’s the wombat. He’s some¬ 
thing like your badger. Then we have the cunning 




92 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Publishers’ Photo Service 

AUSTRALIAN WOMBATS 

wallabies which are really small kangaroos. They 
live in the wooded country or among rocks, and 
sleep most of the day. And we have emus.” 

“A help in a crossword puzzle,” Peter put in. 

“An emu is a bird that looks much like an ostrich, 
except that he has brownish-black feathers. He’s 
not particularly beautiful. He stands about five 
feet high and he eats roots and grass.” Donald 
smiled at Nancy, ignoring Peter. “The laughing 
jackass is another funny bird.” 

“Bird?” interrupted Peter. 

“I said bird,” Donald retorted. “Its real name is 
the kookaburra. We often hear its loud, ringing 



KOALAS AND EMUS 


93 



KOOKABURRAS MAKE INTERESTING PETS 

laughter in the country. When a pair of these birds 
begin to laugh, they usually set people laughing, 
too. They make very interesting pets.” 

Nancy said carefully, “That’s interesting,” and 
she looked at Peter significantly to let him know 
she didn’t quite believe all Donald’s tales, either. 

“Tell them about the bowerbird,” Alice urged. 

“Bowerbirds build little playgrounds for them¬ 
selves,” Donald began, but now both Peter and 
Nancy were frankly laughing. 

“I won’t say another word.” Donald grinned 
at his sister. “We’ll let them do their own explor¬ 
ing. If they’re lucky, they may find a bowerbird.” 

“Like finding a bluebird at home, I suppose,” 
observed Peter. 






IN CAVES, ON BEACHES, AND IN THE AIR 


J ENOLAN Caves! The words had a magic sound, 
bringing to mind the well-remembered weird 
loveliness of the caves Peter and Nancy had visited 
in New Zealand. But those had been glowworm 
caves. What would the Jenolan caves be like? 

Since the caves were located only about seventy 
miles from Sydney, it was decided to drive out. 
Mrs. Powrie packed a lunch for the excursion. 

The road that the car followed cut into moun¬ 
tains, not so high as the Rockies but quite as 
beautiful. 

“There is beauty above the earth anyway,” 
Nancy teased. “IPs lovely even if your caves prove 
disappointing.” 

“There is beauty beneath, too!” Alice declared 
shyly, not quite able to accustom herself to Ameri¬ 
can teasing. 

“What has caused all this beauty?” Peter asked. 
“Worms?” 

“No, indeed!” Alice shivered. “The dripping of 
water through limestone rocks. Oh, you will think 
you’re in fairyland! I know you will.” 

After less than three hours of rapid but careful 
driving the car came to a stop at Grand Arch. 

“Ages ago a river carved this Grand Arch, 
youngsters,” Uncle Lee declared. “Feast your 
eyes as we go ahead. We'll have to take it slowly.” 


94 


IN CAVES, ON BEACHES, AND IN THE AIR 


95 


The car entered a natural tunnel and passed 
through an archlike span of limestone. From the 
walls of this arch, the children discovered the nar¬ 
row passages that would lead them to the grottoes 
under the earth. 

The four children were out of the car first, with 
Donald leading the way. No need to shout the 
praises of this underground wonderland! Both 
Peter and Nancy were starry eyed with wonder. 
Here were delicate pink-and-white and brown lime¬ 
stone miracles. Not the work of human artists 
with fantastic dreams, but the work of nature, an 
artist with fabulous visions. 

“There’s a castle!” Peter cried. “No, it isn’t 
really a castle, but there are turrets and pinnacles 
and bridges.” 

“There’s a pink-and-white tree!” Nancy ex¬ 
claimed. “And a white bird! No, it isn’t really a 
bird. Look at that little brown man all humped 
over, and the tall prince close by. And I do believe 
there’s a princess, too! There’s a climbing rose, 
and yet it doesn’t turn out to be a rose.” 

“Make up your mind,” Peter chided and laughed, 
because it was so impossible for anyone to make up 
an ordinary, workaday mind in so fantastic a place. 

Coming back to Sydney the children looked again 
at the town hall. Mrs. Powrie informed them 
that it represented the best in Renaissance art, also 
that the market place was Byzantine, the churches 
were Gothic, the Government House a Tudor castle, 
and the art gallery, Ionic. 



96 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


She added, “The soda fountains and light lunch 
restaurants are American ideas. What flavor? 
Chocolate, strawberry, or vanilla?” 

“Let’s stop,” agreed Uncle Lee, taking the hint, 
“as soon as we can find a parking place. One thing 
I have noticed that impresses me favorably is that 
a drug store is still a chemist shop, and it actually 
sells drugs. Also, I buy my cigarettes and tobacco 
from a tobacconist.” 

They left the car and Donald led the children 
into Hyde Park. They strolled over to the Archi¬ 
bald Memorial Fountain which had been erected 
in memory of the comradeship in arms of Australia 
and France during the World War. Sprays of 
water played beneath the central statue on its ped¬ 
estal and around the groups at its base. Peter 
stared long at one especially, of Theseus slaying 
the Minotaur. But the Powrie children were al¬ 
ready gazing hungrily at the emporium, or depart¬ 
ment store, across the street. Mr. Powrie said 
that the store had four thousand employees, but 
he supposed the children were more interested in 
the fact that it fed around six thousand persons 
a day in one of its restaurants. 

“Quite different from the early days,” he remi¬ 
nisced. “Even the governors, in giving parties, 
had to make the request, 'Bring your own bread.’ 
They never dreamed of such prosperity as Aus¬ 
tralia knows at present. Small wonder we feel 
like celebrating our birthday. We shall be a hun¬ 
dred and fifty years old in 1938!” 




IN CAVES , ON BEACHES , AND IN THE AIR 


97 


“George and Pitt Streets, leading up from the 
quay, were once paths that the early colonists made 
in visiting one another,” Mrs. Powrie added. “And 
when an early governor threw some logs across a 
rivulet, he didn’t realize that he was founding 
Bridge Street.” 

After a delicious lunch in a restaurant crowded 
with Britishers, Peter and Nancy realized that 
they were in a prosperous, thriving city. And a 
growing city, too! Driving out after lunch they 
saw steel riveters at work in many places. Thor¬ 
oughfares were being extended, too, and in places 
the traffic was most decidedly cramped. Down 
Castlereagh and up Pitt Street there was one¬ 
way routing. 

Neon lights proclaimed motion-picture palaces, 
theaters, and night clubs. Uncle Lee seemed most 
interested in the Royal Exchange which Mr. 
Powrie declared to be the largest wool-selling center 
in the world, larger even than London. He said 
that more than a million bales of wool were auc¬ 
tioned here every year. This wool brought so 
much prosperity and happiness to Australia that 
it should be called the “golden fleece,” he declared. 

Next morning, Mr. Powrie offered to take Uncle 
Lee through the Royal Exchange while the chil¬ 
dren visited a beach. He wanted Uncle Lee to see 
the enormous salesrooms for tallow, hides, and 
other country products including sheepskins. 

The beach to which Mrs. Powrie took the chil¬ 
dren proved one thing, that Sydney played as hard 



98 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

BONDI BEACH 


as it worked. Here at Bondi, with its view of 
red-tiled houses climbing the hills, the hilarious, 
brightly clad holiday-makers gathered. Donald 
and Peter ran out among the breakers while Alice 
and Nancy made castles in the sand, striving 
vainly to reproduce some of the fantastic palaces 
of the Jenolan Caves. Whenever they looked up 
to gaze off at the blue water, they saw the billow¬ 
ing sails of dozens of boats. Close at hand scores 
of bathers were “shooting the breakers” on surf¬ 
boards or mattress-like rubber cushions. The chil¬ 
dren's bodies were bronzed from daily sun baths. 

“How about sharks?” Nancy inquired. “No one 
seems afraid.” 

“The beaches are watched closely by lifeguards,” 
Alice explained. “If a shark should appear, a 



IN CAVES , ON BEACHES , AND IN THE AIR 


99 



LIFEGUARDS ON THE BEACH AT SYDNEY 

warning bell would be rung. Manly Beach has a 
five-acre pool enclosed in a shark-proof net. Some 
of the bathing places are patroled by airplanes. 
Your uncle said you have an aviator friend who has 
flown many thousands of miles.” 

“Yes. Jimmy Dustin,” Nancy answered. “I 
wish he were going to fly us up to Brisbane to¬ 
morrow. How far is it?” 

“Oh, about six hundred miles, as the crow flies,” 
Alice answered. “I mean, as the plane flies. You’ll 
find Mascot Airdrome a very busy place.” 


100 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


A bell sounded suddenly, loud and clear. 

“Alice!” Nancy jumped to her feet. “There’s 
the bell!” 

Alice seized Nancy’s hand and ran down to the 
water’s edge, calling loudly for Donald. Donald, 
dragging the unwilling Peter with him, was almost 
angry with his guest. 

Mrs. Powrie appeared at this moment and cried, 
“They’ve caught the shark. He was in the third 
line of breakers. A gray nurse, they said!” 

“I thought sharks were just sharks,” Nancy de¬ 
clared. “How many kinds are there?” 

“Several,” Donald answered Nancy’s question. 
“The gray nurses are some of the worst. There 
are the whalers, the tigers, the school sharks, the 
blue pointers, the hammerheads, the carpets, and 
the wobbegongs. The tigers aren’t striped like a 
tiger except when they’re very small. When they 
grow up, they are just a dirty gray.” 

“Don’t forget the shovel noses or the gummies,” 
Alice put in. “Some sharks are called Pork Jack- 
sons and some are called angels.” 

“Commercial shark fishing has made angels of a 
good many sharks,” Donald added. “The Devil 
and the Demon were the first specially built motor- 
boats that were constructed for commercial shark 
fishing. The sharks that our fishermen snare in 
nets end up as shoes or pocket books, or luggage. 
The shark livers are valuable for their fish oil, as 
good for people as cod-liver oil and twice as 
odoriferous!” 



IN CAVES, ON BEACHES, AND IN THE AIR 


101 


At this moment Mr. Powrie and Uncle Lee ar¬ 
rived to escort the picnickers home. A sailor ap¬ 
proached them, and a long consultation ensued. At 
least it seemed long to the curious onlookers. 

“Like to go to Pindimar?” Mr. Powrie called out 
to the children. “That’s one place where shark 
news is good news. Catching sharks is a business 
there. A profitable business, too!” 

“Pindimar is one of those places not found on the 
average map,” Uncle Lee explained. “It’s just a 
little village on the shores of Port Stephens with 
Newcastle for its closest port neighbor. The only- 
people who live there are fishermen, lobsterers, and 
oystermen.” 

“And, of course, Charlie Ping,” Mr. Powrie 
added. 

“Who’s Charlie Ping?” Peter inquired eagerly. 

“He’s a husky little expert,” Mr. Powrie an¬ 
swered. “Combination of Australian aborigine, 
Jap, and Malay! He skins the sharks and evalu¬ 
ates their skins and livers. You’ll be impressed. 
Ready?” 

“I’ll go,” Peter shouted. “Donald and I will go.” 

“I’m going, too,” Nancy declared. “I don’t want 
to miss all that fun.” 

Alice tried to dissuade her. Nancy herself al¬ 
most changed her mind when she saw the boat half 
full of sharks. She crawled so far up into the bow 
that the salt spray wet the sport coat she had put 
on over her bathing suit. The loaded boat sped out 
into the heavy waves, pausing only once on its 



102 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


homeward trip to watch another small boat take 
on a great shark. 

Mr. Powrie was explaining the manner of catch¬ 
ing sharks. 

“A shark net,” he said, “is about a thousand feet 
long and has an eight-inch mesh. Sharks are not 
bagged. The net hangs down straight, and the 
shark is meshed about the head. He doesn’t know 
enough to pull out when he hits the net. Sharks 
haven’t much intelligence. Watch that forward 
hand in the boat! He’s leaning over to grasp the 
fin of the shark that has become meshed.” 

“Such a small crew! Just two men and a boy!” 
Nancy worried. “Now they’re trying to pull in the 
net! How that shark thrashes about!” 

Even as Nancy watched, the boy swung out a 
derrick arm. A man adjusted the tail loop. The 
boy then began to work the windlass. Up, up, up 
into the air rose the great fish. 

“Now the big job!” shouted Donald. “They’ve 
got to pull that net free. Razor-edged teeth to look 
out for!” 

“I’d cut the net!” Nancy almost sobbed. “Even 
if nets are expensive.” 

But the clever fishermen soon had the net free. 
One of them hit the shark on the nose with a club 
like a baseball bat. Sometimes, Mr. Powrie said, 
a revolver of large caliber was used. The blow 
stunned the fish, but it continued to thrash about. 

Nancy was glad when both boats were speeding 
through the water towards Pindimar. And she 




Acme 


SHARK-FISHING IS A BUSINESS 



104 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


was happier still when the little village of Pindimar 
came in sight, with Charlie Ping waiting on the 
dock. He was a queer-looking, strong old man with 
green-gray eyes, bright as the sun on the sea. 
Smoking a hand-rolled cigarette, he looked over the 
catch. 

“I’ve read stories about sharks’ teeth being used 
as currency in the South Sea Islands,” Peter 
volunteered. 

“Not so!” Charlie Ping laughed. “Only story.” 

The hide was so tough that after half a dozen 
cuts, the wicked-looking knife had to be sharpened 
again. The head and fins were removed first, then 
the skin was cut away carefully and stretched over 
a board to be cleaned before being set in a big pan 
of brine. 

The liver was immense. Charlie Ping said the 
record shark liver for Pindimar was a two-hun¬ 
dred-pound liver found in a fifteen-foot tiger shark. 

The children saw the liver dumped into a big 
container where it would be cooked to break down 
the oil cells. Nancy held her nose. 

“Same qualities as cod-liver oil, only a bit 
greener in color,” Uncle Lee reminded Nancy as he 
led her away from the shark dock where the skin¬ 
ning and liver-boiling would continue until the 
entire catch was handled. 

On the shore were the curing, drying, and pack¬ 
ing sheds, and on the rise up from the shore were 
the homes of the men who made their living in this 
dangerous work. 



IN CAVES , ON BEACHES , AND IN THE AIR 


105 


It was good to be back in Sydney again. Nancy 
sniffed the garden roses in the hallway of the 
Powrie home. Peter followed her example. 

After breakfast the next morning, Peter and 
Nancy made ready for their air trip to Brisbane. 

At Mascot Airdrome the MacLarens found that 
they were only three of many passengers ready to 
make the trip. The plane rose over the harbor. 
An irregular bay, innumerable boats, a great rain¬ 
bow span of bridge, the battlements and towers of 
a Tudor castle (the residence of the governor of 
New South Wales), jumbled streets and homes, all 
in the bright sunshine. This was the picture the 
MacLarens carried with them as the airliner rose 
higher and higher, speeding northward along what 
many Australians consider the most magnificent 
coast in the world. 



A CITY THAT MIRRORS A VAST LAND 


P ERHAPS we should have come by boat.” 
Uncle Lee leaned over to speak to Peter and 
Nancy, who were staring down from their comfort¬ 
able seats at the panorama of blue sea and golden 
beach merging with green forest growth splotched 
with color. He added, “Or railroad! It might 
prove more informative if not so delightful.” 

“Why by boat?” Peter inquired and declared, 
“Pm entirely satisfied with flying.” 

“It was by boat,” Uncle Lee explained patiently, 
“that the site for Brisbane was discovered. John 
Oxley, Surveyor General of New South Wales, 
worked his way in and about the islands of More ton 
Bay in a boat and finally sailed up the winding 
course of the Brisbane River twenty miles before 
he could decide on the best site. That was in 1824. 
It took twenty-five years to persuade a thousand 
people to make the new Brisbane their home. 
Now there are over three hundred thousand people 
who agree with John Oxley that his dream of a city 
deserved to become a reality.” 

“It would have been interesting to follow the 
path of John Oxley,” Nancy admitted. “But what 
good would it do to enter Brisbane by train? We’ve 
ridden on trains many times before.” 

“It might impress you with the fact that Queens¬ 
land is a cattle-raising country,” said Uncle Lee. 


106 


A CITY THAT MIRRORS A VAST LAND 


107 


“There are almost as many cattle in Queensland 
alone as in all the other states in Australia. Then, 
too, I was thinking you would be interested in the 
railroads. Each state owns its own! Owns its own! 
Not such good phrasing, but you get the idea. If we 
had come by train, we would have had to change 
trains on the border between New South Wales 
and Queensland.” 

“Why?” Nancy inquired. 

“Australia is made up of states and these states 
unite to form the federal government as do the 
forty-eight states in America,” said Uncle Lee. 
“During the early days in Australia the states did 
not co-operate well on matters of general welfare, 
and so each state established its own railroads inde¬ 
pendently of the others. Railroad gauges change 
at some boundaries, so passengers must change 
trains. At one time passengers changed trains five 
times in going from Brisbane to Perth.” 

“Oh, it’s such a lovely coast!” Nancy interrupted 
Uncle Lee. “Beautiful forests and gorgeous flower¬ 
ing trees! And palms again! Look at all the little 
inlets and sandy coves!” 

“A few miles north along this shore is the be¬ 
ginning of the Great Barrier Reef,” Uncle Lee told 
them. “It is the largest continuous mass of coral in 
the world, and forms the most picturesque coast in 
Australia. If you could see it at low tide, it would 
look like varicolored sponges all along the shore.” 

“That is where they catch those big green 
turtles for turtle soup,” said Peter. 



108 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Australian Press Bureau 

TURTLE-RIDING 


m 






“Some people think it is great sport to go turtle¬ 
riding, too,” said Uncle Lee. “Some of those old 
turtles are as big as surfboards.” 

In a very short time Moreton Bay appeared, 
dotted with islands, just as John Oxley had prob¬ 
ably seen it on that famous exploration trip to find 
a site for a city. But the city wharves that came in 
view were surely quite different from anything 
John Oxley had pictured. 

Then the city grew clear, seated upon hills and 



A CITY THAT MIRRORS A VAST LAND 


109 


divided by a silver ribbon of a river into two 
districts. 

“The river must be deep,” Peter guessed. “There 
are big, ocean-going liners at the ship docks.” 

As the plane flew lower Peter and Nancy thrilled 
to the beauty of the flowering trees. Most of the 
plants were familiar. Down below Brazilian 
jacaranda trees lifted bunches of powdery blue 
flowers into the sunlight. Every street and park 
was brilliant with the enchanting red of flame of 
the forest trees. Over trellises and walls twined 
red and purple bougainvillea. Graceful palms 
rustled and swayed in the light breeze. Upon 
landing the children smelled the heavy sweetness of 
frangipani, a scent they usually associated with 
the Orient. 

The taxi Uncle Lee secured drove along busy 
streets past fruit stalls where bananas, pawpaws, 
and pineapples were offered for sale and a strange 
fruit-salad plant which Uncle Lee called Monster a 
deliciosa. 

“A different atmosphere from Sydney,” Peter 
remarked. “But the city is built like Sydney, on 
hills.” 

“The houses don’t look so substantial,” Nancy 
observed. “The climate must be much warmer, 
and there’s doubtless a wet season. So many places 
are built on stilts.” 

“You’re right, Nancy,” Uncle Lee decided. 
“Stilts give coolness in the summertime, by allow¬ 
ing circulation of air beneath the houses. Stilts 



110 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


keep the wetness off one’s first floor during the 
rainy season.” 

At the hotel one of the airplane passengers 
greeted the MacLarens. He was a tall, bronzed 
giant of a man. 

“Well,” he exclaimed, “you’re in the biggest city 
of the Australian Commonwealth today.” 

“We were taught that Sydney came first,” Peter 
put in, “with Melbourne second and Adelaide third. 
That would place Brisbane fourth.” 

“Doubtless you’re thinking in terms of popula¬ 
tion,” the Australian said, with a twinkle in his 
very blue eyes. “I was thinking in terms of areas. 
Our city embraces 385 square miles. That gives, 
roughly, four-fifths of an acre to each resident. 
I tell you Brisbane’s one place where there’s room 
according to your strength.” 

The Australian expanded his big chest. 

“For that matter,” he boasted, “Queensland 
isn’t exactly what you’d call cramped. Queens¬ 
land has seven and a half times the area of the 
British Isles — By the way, have you seen our 
new city hall?” 

Peter and Nancy could not resist laughing out¬ 
right, and Nancy hastened to explain. 

“The taxi man told us that the first question 
we would hear in Brisbane would be, ‘Have you 
seen our new city hall?’ I do want to see it. It 
must be wonderful.” 

“It is wonderful,” agreed the Australian 
modestly. 



A CITY THAT MIRRORS A VAST LAND 


111 


On the following morning Peter and Nancy 
were well able to understand the reason for the 
pride every Brisbane resident took in the city 
hall. It occupied more than two acres, and it was 
spacious and beautiful, built in Italian Renais¬ 
sance style. It overlooked the business district 
and seemed to have made the rest of the buildings 
live up to its ideal of beauty. There were many, 
many buildings as handsome as the MacLarens 
had seen anywhere. 

“The city hall is built of granite and freestone 
mined right in Queensland,” Uncle Lee declared. 
“When I think that only a hundred years ago, 
black men camped on this site, Pm as much im¬ 
pressed as any Brisbane resident. Let’s go up in 
the tower and look over the town.” 

Uncle Lee pointed out Queen’s Street from the 
tower. Many of the buildings that lined the down¬ 
town section of this thoroughfare were new. The 
street continued on and on until it was lost in a 
maze of small houses. 

The river was truly lovely, curving in and out, 
often opening into lakelike spans on which rode 
ships of many nations. Uncle Lee said that these 
ships brought prosperity to Brisbane by carrying 
away cattle and sheep and sugar. 

“Where are the cattle ranches?” Peter inquired. 

“The dairying herds are near the coast,” Uncle 
Lee explained. “The beef herds are farther 
back. They extend into the arid regions. . It’s 
estimated that there are five and a half million 



112 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

A FLOCK OF AUSTRALIAN SHEEP 

cattle ranging on Queensland acreage. And over 
there to the west of Brisbane lies Darling Downs. 
Between Brisbane and Darling Downs is a con¬ 
venient coal field.” 

“And the sheep?” Peter asked. 

“There are twenty-one million sheep,” Uncle 
Lee answered. “They’re scattered all over Queens¬ 
land with perhaps more than the average on the 
Darling Downs. On that deep, rich lava soil the 
grass grows bountifully.” 

And the sugar?” Nancy asked eagerly. 
“Queensland raises enough sugar for all Austra¬ 
lia,” Uncle Lee maintained. “Cane sugar at that! 




A CITY THAT MIRRORS A VAST LAND 


113 


The Colonial Sugar Refining Company handles 
raw sugar from mills in different parts of the 
state. Mackay, farther north, is the sugar center. 
More sugar cane is grown around Mackay by 
white men than in any other place in the world. 
There's a big sugar refining plant at Childers, too. 
Some of the raw sugar is sent into New South 
Wales and Victoria for refining. It's a big in¬ 
dustry to manage. Remember this: Australia's 
sugar bowl is not the only one filled with sugar 
from Queensland, as our sugar bowl receives over 
seven million dollars' worth of Queensland sugar 
a year. I suppose most of it goes to the mother 
country—with a stop-off in New Zealand—but I 
like to think of eating Australian sugar." 

“You sound almost like that Australian who 
recommended the city hall," Nancy teased. 

But Uncle Lee was not to be discouraged. His 
enthusiasm remained high as he pointed out the 
meatworks along the river and other factories 
close by where flour was ground, meat frozen for 
shipment, and fruits canned. He said the fruit 
from Blackhall Range was of the best, and that 
the oranges and pineapples could not be improved 
upon for flavor, texture, or size. 

“Is there anything not to be found in Queens¬ 
land?" Peter inquired, striving to look sober. 

“Nothing important," Uncle Lee replied. “Even 
cotton is grown. Mighty good cotton, too. No 
Negro labor, for Australia is 97 per cent British 
and permits no Negro immigration, but she uses 



114 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


a mechanical picker that does the work. Of course, 
cotton is practically a new industry, but, like 
everything else in Queensland, it's growing, and 
growing by leaps and bounds.” 

“How about jewels?” Nancy asked and winked 
at Peter. 

“I win again!” Uncle Lee laughed heartily. “On 
Thursday Island, off the north coast of Queens¬ 
land, there are pearl fisheries. Maybe not so many 
pearls are found, but the place is famous for its 
mother-of-pearl shell. The most beautiful mother- 
of-pearl in the world is found there, lovely in 
texture and in luster. Back in Queensland’s hills 
you’ll find settings for your jewels—silver and 
gold—along with other more practical minerals, 
such as lead and copper. And you’ll find splendid 
stones—diamonds, sapphires, and black opals.” 

Leaving the great tower of the city hall, the 
MacLarens visited a circular colonnade in the heart 
of Brisbane. Here from the mouth of a large urn 
burned an eternal flame in memory of Queensland’s 
youth who had fallen in the World War. 

There were flowers at the base of the urn, wild 
flowers that grew in Queensland’s countryside. 
Nancy said she was glad that the giver had chosen 
native flowers. 

“It seems to me,” she added, “that all Queens¬ 
land is reflected in the life of Brisbane.” 

“It is,” Uncle Lee agreed. 

“Just the same,” Peter declared, “I’d like to see 
the rest.” 



A CITY MADE TO ORDER 


O N THE WAY from Brisbane to Canberra 
Uncle Lee explained that the Commonwealth 
of Australia was a federation of states like the 
United States of America. Canberra was the 
capital city of the Australian Commonwealth. 

As Peter and Nancy looked down from the 
narrow road above the city, they were a little 
disappointed. At first sight Canberra seemed a 
mere skeleton of a town. 

The city was laid in a flat, round basin sur¬ 
rounded by hills, with a river running through 
from east to west. Off to the left in an isolated 
area they saw the Presbyterian Cathedral stand¬ 
ing all alone. Directly below them, in the shadow 
of the hill, were the impressive federal buildings. 

“The Parliament House covers four acres of 
ground,” Uncle Lee told them. “This afternoon 
I will take you inside.” 

Nancy noticed on the outer fringes of the city 
the scattered groups of houses where residential 
suburbs had sprung up even before the city itself 
was complete. 

“You are looking down upon a city in the 
making,” said Uncle Lee. “It is one of the few 
capitals in the world that was deliberately planned 
in the same way that we would plan a house or 
garden.” 


115 


116 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

A SUBURB OF THE NEW CAPITAL 

“Who planned it?” Nancy asked. 

“Strange as it may seem,” Uncle Lee answered, 
“an American architect planned it.” 

“An American?” Peter and Nancy exclaimed. 

“That’s right,” Uncle Lee assured them. “He 
is Walter Burley Griffin of Chicago.” 

“I should think they would have had an Austra¬ 
lian plan the city,” said Nancy. 

“Well,” Uncle Lee explained, “the Australian 
government wanted the best plan they could get 
for their capital city, so they conducted a world¬ 
wide competition. Of all the plans submitted, 
Walter Burley Griffin’s pleased the government 
most.” 

. “He surely must have got a thrill out of plan¬ 
ning a whole city,” said Peter, a bit awed. “I’d 
like to be an architect and build a city.” 




A CITY MADE TO ORDER 


117 


“There you go again,” Nancy put in. “Now you 
want to be an architect. Tomorrow you’ll prob¬ 
ably want to be an aborigine.” 

“No, I will not,” Peter denied. 

As they followed the road leading down the hill 
toward the city, Uncle Lee went on, “There used 
to be nothing here but a couple of sheep stations. 
Now the former home of one of the station owners 
belongs to the governor-general.” 

“I wonder if that’s it,” said Nancy, pointing to 
a big white house set in among trees and gardens. 

“Yes,” said Uncle Lee, “the one with the green 
roof.” 

“How do they go about making a new city?” 
inquired Peter. 

“Well,” said Uncle Lee, “you have heard about 
the competition among the architects of the world. 
After the choice of plans was made, construction 
of government buildings and homes was begun. 
Canberra was officially founded in 1920. The 
Prince of Wales, who was later King of England 
and is now the Duke of Windsor, laid the stone on 
top of Capitol Hill which marks the center of the 
official zone of Canberra city. Then building 
began.” 

“Federal Territory is something like our Dis¬ 
trict of Columbia, isn’t it?” asked Peter. 

“Exactly,” Uncle Lee replied. “It is not under 
the authority of any state. In fact, Canberra is 
similar to our Washington in several ways. Of 
course, it is laid out in circular drives radiating 



118 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


from Capitol Hill, much like Washington. That 
is one likeness, but there is another greater one. 
When Australia became a commonwealth, the place 
for a federal capital had to be decided upon. The 
people of Sydney thought that Sydney should be 
the capital. But the people of Melbourne thought 
that if Sydney became the federal capital, then 
Sydney would overshadow Melbourne, so they 
wanted Melbourne to be the capital. There was 
a great deal of discussion about it. At last it was 
decided to build a capital city on this great plain.” 

“It was like the dispute between New York and 
Philadelphia over the capital of the United States,” 
said Nancy quickly. 

Uncle Lee pointed out the Molonglo river flow¬ 
ing through the town. 

“There is another little river called the Cotter,” 
he said. “Some of these days there will be a chain 
of ornamental lakes growing out of one of these 
rivers. That is part of the city plan.” 

Here and there along the way Peter and Nancy 
noticed many new little trees that had not yet 
had time to grow. Others already had become part 
of the landscape. There seemed to be no end of 
variety—birch trees, cypresses, cedars, oaks, elms, 
shiny-leaved poplars, graceful willows, junipers, 
and, of course, eucalyptus. 

“No factories?” questioned Peter. 

“No factories,” Uncle Lee answered. “And 
probably there never will be any. In the first 
place, Canberra is too far from the seacoast. In 



A CITY MADE TO ORDER 


119 



Evjing Galloway 


PARLIAMENT HOUSE 


the second place, Canberra is strictly a govern¬ 
ment city. So far as I know, there are no factories 
included in the plan of the city, and the plan is 
protected by legislation, so there can be no change.” 

In front of Parliament House the little green 
spears of tulips were just pushing their way out of 
the ground. The long white building of modern- 
classic style was dignified and impressive. 

The most interesting thing inside the building 
was the Speaker’s chair in the House of Repre¬ 
sentatives. It was an exact copy of the one in the 
House of Commons in England, the guard told 






120 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


them, and was a present from the British Parlia¬ 
ment. 

The first parliament at Canberra, they learned, 
met May 9, 1927. The opening of the parliament 
was marked by impressive ceremonies conducted 
by the Duke of York, who is now King George VI 
of England. 

As they left the government buildings, Uncle 
Lee said, “We must be sure to drive down Com¬ 
monwealth Avenue. They say that in half a mile 
there are twenty thousand rose trees growing. 
All in all, I think there are supposed to be some¬ 
thing like three million trees and shrubs planted 
about the city.” 

“Three million trees and shrubs should surely 
make a showing in time,” Peter added. 

“Just think,” Nancy pondered, “this city has 
been growing only since 1920. That’s not so very 
many years, when one thinks of the hundreds of 
years some cities have been growing. Maybe in 
a hundred years or so Canberra truly will be the 
Garden City of Australia.” 

“It bids fair to be the cultural center of 
Australia, too,” Uncle Lee added. “It already has 
fine schools. There is a branch of the University 
of Melbourne here, and the Australian Forestry 
School; then there’s the Institute of Anatomy. 
There is Albert Hall, which is the opera house, and 
the people are planning for a national research 
university some day. That will lead to greater 
developments.” 



A CITY MADE TO ORDER 


121 


“It makes all these vacant lots seem more inter¬ 
esting,” said Peter, “when you can imagine what 
they will look like with the buildings that are 
already planned for them.” 

“Where does Canberra get its name?” Nancy 
asked. 

“It is a native name,” Uncle Lee replied, “but 
no one seems to know just what it means. By the 
way, it is pronounced with the accent on the first 
syllable and as if it were spelled Canbra.” 

“How many people are there now, Uncle Lee?” 
Peter wanted to know. 

“Less than ten thousand at present,” Uncle Lee 
admitted, but added, “it will grow.” 

“Why, Uncle Lee!” Nancy exclaimed, laughing, 
“you sound like a true Australian.” 



THE HOME OF MELBA 


P ETER and Nancy wanted to fly from Canberra 
to Melbourne, but learned to their amazement, 
that there was no direct air line connecting the 
two places. So the party flew from Canberra to 
Cootamundra, and there took a train to Melbourne. 

Australian trains were comfortable, and both 
Peter and Nancy enjoyed the night trip. Changing 
trains at the border between New South Wales 
and Victoria was in itself an adventure. Peter 
had half expected to encounter pioneer accommo¬ 
dations and he was thoroughly surprised. One 
of the trainmen told the children, with the same 
air of modesty as had the Australian in Brisbane, 
that 282,000 commuters passed daily through 
Flinders Street railway station in Melbourne. The 
government, he declared, had to operate twenty- 
three hundred trains a day to take care of them. 

Their locomotive was steam-driven, but an 
electric suburban train was pointed out to them. 

The trainman said, “Anything you have in the 
United States we have here. Or we’re getting it,” 
he added, smiling. 

Being interstate passengers, the MacLarens did 
not arrive at the much talked of Flinders Street 
station but at Spencer Street station, about four 
blocks away. In the early morning light they drove 
to a British hotel. 


122 


THE HOME OF MELBA 


123 


Directly after a breakfast of tea and hard rolls 
with orange marmalade, Uncle Lee took Peter and 
Nancy out to a bridge on the Yarra River for their 
first view of the city. 

“I want you to remember,” he said, as they 
strolled along the footpath, “that it was here John 
Batman stood when he made the entry in his diary, 
'This will be a place for a village/ That entry was 
a true prophecy; only the village grew up.” 

Thinking of the crowded streets through which 
they had walked on their way to the bridge, Peter 
said, “Village isn’t exactly the word for Melbourne. 
IPs—it’s a regular Chicago or New York.” 

“IPs like New York in one respect, anyway,” 
Uncle Lee declared. “Just as New York was pur¬ 
chased from the Indians with knives and beads and 
trinkets, so Melbourne was purchased from a band 
of wandering blacks with knives and blankets 
and trinkets by John Batman. He was on a 
pioneering adventure from Tasmania when he 
made the purchase that gave him a questionable 
right to the six-hundred-thousand-acre tract.” 

Facing the city, Uncle Lee’s left arm swung 
in a wide gesture toward Government House in 
the distance with its commanding square tower. 
His right arm swung out to call attention to the 
Shrine of Remembrance with its oddly shaped 
dome against the dazzling sky. 

“This bridge,” he declared, returning his gaze 
to the immediate surroundings, “is called Prince’s 
Bridge. Notice that it’s a pylon bridge. In other 




Ewing Galloway 

MELBOURNE IS A REGULAR CHICAGO OR NEW YORK 





















THE HOME OF MELBA 


125 


words, it has a sort of monumental entrance. It 
was here that the Duke of Gloucester was welcomed 
on October 18, 1934 when Victoria began the 
celebration of her centenary.” 

“Just a hundred years to make a city!” Peter 
marveled. 

“Right, Peter.” Uncle Lee’s bright blue eyes 
swept the triumphal bridge. “Close to this very 
spot Batman and his associates settled down to 
make homes. Then an independent lot of squatters 
under John Fawkner pitched their tents near by. 
In spite of protests from New South Wales authori¬ 
ties, these pioneers stayed. They started out to 
become sheepmen and cattlemen and farmers. 
That was their ambition. Even before the dis¬ 
covery of gold, Melbourne had a population of 
twenty thousand.” 

“And today?” Peter and Nancy both asked the 
question. 

“Today there are over a million souls here,” 
Uncle Lee replied. 

“Tell us about the discovery of gold,” Peter 
begged. 

“It was an exciting time,” Uncle Lee declared. 
“People thought at first that they had found El 
Dorado, especially when miners began to bring 
in large gold nuggets. Mines were opened up in 
Castlemaine, Ballarat, and Bendigo. Men flocked 
to the new gold fields, but they did not return to 
their homes. The country was rich in other ways, 
and there they stayed.” 



126 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


“It’s a lovely sky line,” Nancy exclaimed as the 
MacLarens strolled along the riverbank of the 
silvery, smooth Yarra. “It seems strange to see 
church spires among the business blocks.” 

“The loftiest spire you see,” Uncle Lee ex¬ 
plained, “is that of St. Paul's Cathedral.” 

“Reminds me of Trinity Church in New York,” 
Peter spoke up. “But even with churches among 
the business houses, Melbourne isn't a hodgepodge 
city, is it, Uncle Lee?” 

Uncle Lee sat down on a grassy bank, the 
children beside him, while he told them of how 
carefully Melbourne had been planned. 

Built on rolling hills, the surveyors realized 
that one might often come to a rise and delight in a 
new scene while strolling about the city; such 
pictures as lovely homes on tree-lined boulevards 
and spires rising against blue sky line, or masts of 
ships in Port Phillip Bay. But first of all, they 
insisted on ninety-nine-foot-wide streets, though 
they did agree to lanes as entrances to back prop¬ 
erties. Many of these lanes have since become busy 
streets. Uncle Lee laughed as he described the 
growth of Melbourne beyond the dreams of even 
the visionary surveyors of that pioneer period. 

The beaches reminded the children of those at 
Sydney, even though they were not quite so numer¬ 
ous nor so widely patronized. Nor were there the 
charming, winding streets of Sydney; but, for all 
that, Melbourne's neat wholesomeness and pros¬ 
perity were impressive. 



THE HOME OF MELBA 


127 


Uncle Lee pointed out the Dandenong Mountains 
a short distance away and said that Mount Buffalo 
in the Australian Alps was a popular winter play¬ 
ground. Cricket grounds, football fields, tennis 
courts, golf links, and race tracks all proclaimed 
the fact that Melbourne loved its sports. 

“Yes,” Uncle Lee observed as he sat down in 
the hotel lobby with the children after the long 
sight-seeing trip, “Melbourne loves its sports, but 
it also loves music more than does any other Aus¬ 
tralian city. And, because it loves music, musicians 
love Melbourne.” 

“You’re thinking of Madame Melba,” Peter 
guessed. 

“One of the greatest sopranos the world has 
ever known,” Nancy added. “Oh, I wish I might 
have heard her sing. Mother said her voice was 
golden.” 

“She was born not far from Melbourne,” Uncle 
Lee continued. “Her name was Nellie Porter 
Mitchell. For twenty years, however, she thrilled 
the world as Melba. At the height of her success, 
after she had received the plaudits of the civilized 
world, she came home for the ovation dearest to 
her heart, the approval of her beloved people of 
Melbourne.” 

“Go on, Uncle Lee,” Nancy urged. 

He told how through the years Melba appeared 
in concert and opera, impressing such persons as 
Sarah Bernhardt, who echoed the thought of every 
listener when she said, “You sing like an angel.” 



128 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


Singing to aid the Red Cross! Singing to inspire 
the soldiers during the World War! Singing to 
soothe the saddened! But always singing in that 
clear, indescribably lovely lyric voice! 

“And,” Uncle Lee concluded, “on Armistice Day, 
November 11,1918, Nellie Melba sang the national 
anthem here in Melbourne to a weeping audience.” 

Later Uncle Lee took Peter and Nancy to see 
Victoria’s Shrine of Remembrance. They were 
very sober as they came in sight of the great shrine, 
with its marble pillars above the long flights of 
marble steps and its odd, slanted roof. 

Uncle Lee showed the two children the books 
containing the rolls of the State’s sons who had 
served in the World War. In one of the books 
King George V had written, “Let their names be 
forever held in proud remembrance.” 

Peter and Nancy paused to read the inscription 
on a marble slab set in the floor in the center of 
the shrine. The words were: “Greater Love Hath 
No Man.” 

Said Uncle Lee, “There’s an opening in the 
ceiling so placed that a ray of sunlight will strike 
this inscription on every November eleventh.” 

The young travelers had never seemed quite so 
solemn. 

“And now we shall visit the oldest and largest 
library in Australia,” Uncle Lee announced. 

They had never seen anything quite like the 
main reading room of the Melbourne Public 
Library. It had been built in the form of an 



THE HOME OF MELBA 


129 



Ewing Galloway 

THE EXHIBITION BUILDING 


octagon, with tables radiating from the central, 
librarian’s desk. Both the National Museum and 
the Art Gallery had become part of the library 
with vast amounts of historical treasures. 

Uncle Lee finally said, “I think I’ll take you for 
a drive before dinner.” 

The pleasant drive included many fine schools 
and a view of the impressive university buildings. 
They passed the Exhibition Building, a permanent 
exhibit hall in which a great variety of merchandise 
was displayed for sale. They saw, too, little houses 
with corrugated iron roofs, old-fashioned homes 



130 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


with high, concealing hedges that enclosed gardens, 
and the fine homes in the Toorak district, a few 
built in Spanish style with open lawns. 

At the entrance to the Melbourne airport Uncle 
Lee stopped the car and got out. 

“What is there to see here?” Nancy asked 
wonderingly, as they followed across the field. 

Suddenly Peter shouted, “Jimmy Dustin!” 

A tall, slim boy with a mop of light curly hair 
was examining a plane that had evidently just 
landed. At Peter’s shout he turned, and his blue 
eyes lighted up as he shouted, “The MacLarens! 
Peter! Nancy! Uncle Lee!” 

He swung Nancy off her feet, slapped Peter 
resoundingly on the back, and grasped Uncle Lee’s 
hand exclaiming, “Get my wire?” 

“Uncle Lee!” two accusing voices cried. Nancy 
added, “That accounts for the queer look he has 
been wearing.” 

“Are you going to fly us about, Jimmy?” Peter 
asked as the party taxied to the hotel. “Of course 
you are, or you wouldn’t be here. But when? 
When do we start?” 

“Tomorrow,” Jimmy answered matter-of-factly. 
“Before you leave this part of Australia, Pm 
taking you to see three things, the giant eucalyptus 
trees of this state of Victoria, a sheep ranch in 
New South Wales, and a cattle ranch in Queens¬ 
land. That will give Uncle Lee a quiet time here 
in Melbourne, and a chance to get caught up with 
his work.” 



A SHEEP STATION 


J IMMY DUSTIN’S plane left Melbourne with 
Peter and Nancy seated behind their pilot in the 
familiar cockpit. Far below, Uncle Lee waved 
good-by. The plane swung upward in an arc, 
steadied, then dipped into a valley. The mountains 
at first were the color of the cobalt blue in Nancy’s 
paintbox. Then the sun began to shine, and on 
a hillside a pink mass of foxglove appeared for a 
fleeting moment. Most of the foliage was a gray- 
green, shading to bronze, except for the young 
red leaves of the eucalyptus trees. Once in a 
while there were golden splashes of wattle, although 
in summer regions it was far past its springtime 
bloom. 

“Cumberland Valley!” Jimmy explained. “We’re 
just a short distance northeast of Melbourne. 
Down below is what I want you to see. I’ll fly 
as low as I dare.” 

“The eucalyptus trees are almost as tall as the 
big redwoods of California,” Peter observed, look¬ 
ing down on the great trees. 

“Peter talks in superlatives ‘down under,’ ” 
Nancy teased, but her eyes were shiny with wonder. 
“But they are big! I’ve never seen more stately 
trees.” 

“Will the trees keep their green color all the 
year round?” Peter inquired. “Say, it looks as 


131 


132 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


though there might be pests down there pulling 
off the bark.” 

“No pests !” Jimmy laughed. “Those trees shed 
their bark but not their leaves. They belong to 
the evergreen family and are always just as beauti¬ 
ful as you see them now.” 

Peter and Nancy learned what the eucalyptus 
trees meant to the natives. The leaves, like lances, 
gave little shade, but that did not matter. The 
bark was used, not only for clothes and thatching, 
but for sandals and floor mats. The stringy rope 
that had tied the stakes of the wurleys had been 
made from the tree bark. Oil distilled from the 
eucalyptus leaves was used as a medicine for fevers 
and a salve for wounds. Sugar was made from 
the manna secured from a certain variety of 
eucalyptus. 

“Take one last look!” shouted Jimmy. “Pm 
going to gain altitude before we descend to our 
sheep ranch in New South Wales. We’re flying 
out of the state of Victoria.” 

As the plane droned on, Jimmy talked much of 
his beloved Australia. 

“You’ve seen practically nothing but cities thus 
far,” he said, “and you’ll see more cities. That’s 
all right. Yqu have to see them to see Australia. 
As a matter of fact, nearly half of the Australian 
population is found in its six capital cities. But 
the wealth of Australia is ‘back in,’ as they say 
down here. I’ve shown you one forest, and there 
are many more like it, where axes ring to furnish 




James Sawders 


EUCALYPTUS TREES IN AUSTRALIA 
















134 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


the country—and other countries—with fine hard¬ 
wood. Before we get through, Pm going to show 
you great flocks of sheep, big herds of cattle, vast 
fields of wheat, and valuable mines. Fm going to 
show you the reasons for Australia’s wealth.” 

“The sheep station comes first in that list,” 
Peter observed. 

“Uncle Lee says wool is to Australia what cotton 
is to the American South,” Nancy added. 

“Only more so,” Jimmy declared. “The story of 
wool reads like a romance. Of course you’ve heard 
of the pioneer, Captain John Macarthur. He it 
was who had such faith in Australia as a sheep¬ 
raising country. His faith has surely been justi¬ 
fied, for a fifth of Australia’s wealth is in her 
sheep. There are about 114,000,000 animals, sup¬ 
plying more than a fourth of the world’s wool. 
World's wool, I said!” 

“We heard you!” Peter grinned. “We saw a 
sheep station in New Zealand, and we learned that 
the Australian sheep were bred from the Spanish 
merino. I want to see one of the really big stations.” 

“You will,” Jimmy promised. “Some of the 
big stations raise only high-class rams. Keep 
your weather eye out, Peter! I think we’re there. 
The Sims station! For the next few days, we’ll 
live like country gentlemen or I miss my guess.” 

A young man ran to welcome the newcomers 
before the plane had come to a stop. He led 
them to the main house, which was truly a mansion, 
built after the style of an English manor. The 



A SHEEP STATION 


135 


lady of the big house, Mrs. Sims, immediately took 
Nancy under her protection, calling her a “poor 
child” and saying she didn’t know what Mr. Lee 
MacLaren could be thinking of to allow a little girl 
to go off in an airplane with two heedless boys. 
Nor would she listen to Nancy’s argument that 
they were not heedless! 

What a week that was! The sheep station 
turned out to be a complete community in itself. 
It had its own post office. It had its own telegraph 
station. It had its own power plant. 

The house was a delight. It was modern in 
every respect, and its rugs, its period furniture, 
its gleaming silver, and snowy linen were an odd 
background for Nancy’s wardrobe, which consisted 
mostly of flying togs and wool skirts and sweaters. 
However, no one was critical. 

Out beyond the house with its lovely drives, at 
what seemed a long distance, appeared the barracks 
and houses for the station hands and their families. 
The place was like a little village with streets 
between the orderly, neat buildings. Nancy visited 
the stables there and lingered in the blacksmith 
shop where horses were being shod and harnesses 
mended. The machine shop was full of cars and 
other machinery being put into good condition. 
The laundry and the butchery and the bakery were 
at all times busy. 

Never for a moment, however, was forgotten 
the fact that sheep were the reason for the station’s 
existence. Each morning the men were assigned to 



136 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


their various tasks, expert workers and jackaroos 
alike. They rode out to see the condition of the 
water and the grass, to repair fences, or to remove 
flocks to other pasturage. The owner and his son 
were in Europe, but, as Mrs. Sims said, they were 
not just absentee owners but persons who knew 
every detail of the work of the big station. Mrs. 
Sims’ niece Paula, called by telephone, came out 
from Sydney to be a companion to Nancy. 

With Paula, Nancy rode out over the range one 
bright morning to see some of the sheep and to 
look over the vast, rolling land. It seemed endless, 
and yet Nancy had seen only one small flock and 
had played with two tiny lambs. Suddenly over 
the rise came a number of great animals, leaping 
high into the air. 

“Kangaroos!” Nancy shouted. “How high they 
leap! Look, Paula! Look!” 

Behind the kangaroos came the pound of horses’ 
hoofs. Riders were running the kangaroos parallel 
to the wire fence because, at a single bound, the 
animals could easily have jumped the fence. Two 
of the riders, Peter and Jimmy, turned back. 

“Why are you chasing the ‘roos’?” Paula asked 
them, then answered her own question. “I suppose 
they were using up good pasture land. They will 
do that, you know, and they have to be driven out.” 

“Kangaroos are such gentle animals that it seems 
too bad to have to chase them,” said Nancy. 

“They are very easily tamed,” Paula agreed, 
“but these happen to be wild kangaroos.” 



A SHEEP STATION 


137 



Publishers’ Photo Service 


WILD KANGAROOS 

“Mind if I say something?” Peter spoke up 
suddenly. “It seems strange to me that on a sheep 
station I shouldn’t see more sheep.” 

“I’ve noticed that, too,” Nancy agreed. “Pictures 
of sheep in the house, but no sheep on the land.” 

Paula laughed gaily. 

“That’s very easily explained,” she said. “You 
could travel miles over our station where we are 
raising close to fifty thousand sheep and never see 
one. The flocks are broken up into small groups 
with their own runs. Our sheep average about 
an acre apiece. Where it’s dryer, there’s often a 
bigger average.” 





138 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



AN AUSTRALIAN SHEEP STATION 

“Must be a job at shearing time, ,, Peter com¬ 
mented as the four riders turned homeward. 

“It is,” Paula admitted. “Some of our camps 
are fifty to a hundred miles from the shearing 
sheds. The sheep have to arrive in the proper 
numbers at the proper time. Otherwise some of 
them would be trampled. We have expert shearers 
who handle as many as two hundred sheep a day.” 

“All that wool!” Nancy tried to visualize it. 

“Transportation is a big problem,” Paula 
admitted. “Today much of it is done by motor 
trucks. During wet w T eather many of the ranchers 


Philip D. Gendreau 




A SHEEP STATION 


139 


use bullock teams. They haul tons of wool in high¬ 
wheeled wagons over the boggy black earth and 
along crooked hill tracks. It’s a sight to see from 
ten to twenty bullocks hitched to one big wagon 
loaded with wool. Sometimes we use horses, 
usually large teams, and out by Broken Hill the 
ranchers use camels. That’s dry country, and hot.” 

“Not hitched up?” Peter inquired, unable to 
imagine camels harnessed. 

“Yes,” Paula insisted. “Like horses. Only their 
collars are turned upside down to fit their necks. 
Some of the camels carry bales swung over their 
backs, pannier-wise, you know. Some wool is trans¬ 
ported by water, if there’s a stream handy. We 
grow half a million dollars worth of wool in the 
average year, and in a boom year it’s been doubled.” 

“Will the cattle stations be as big as the sheep 
stations?” Nancy inquired. 

“Oh, yes,” Paula answered. “My Uncle Stanley 
has a cattle station almost as big as one of your 
states. He talks of square miles instead of acres.” 

Peter and Nancy were round eyed with wonder. 
Back at the house they questioned Mrs. Sims. 

“It’s exactly one hundred miles from my 
brother’s back porch to his back fence,” she de¬ 
clared. “I’d never permit Nancy to make that 
trip without me.” 

“You’ll certainly be more than welcome to ride 
with me,” Jimmy offered, and Peter shouted, 
“Hurrah! Glad to have you, Mrs. Sims. This 
responsibility of Nancy was getting me down.” 



A CATTLE STATION 


J IMMY’S plane had been flying for hours, with a 
steady monotonous purr that was soothing to 
the ears of Mrs. Sims. Nancy was becoming 
impatient. 

“Where are we now?” she demanded. 

“Must be in Queensland, now,” answered Peter. 
“But I haven’t seen a fence.” 

“Fence?” Mrs. Sims sat forward. “I didn’t 
mean a real fence when I spoke of my brother’s 
back fence. You can’t put a fence around ten 
thousand square miles. We must be almost there. 
Look below!” 

The sound of bellowing cattle came up from 
the brown prairie below, and a long line of yellow 
dust indicated the direction in which the herd was 
moving. Out from the herd galloped several 
riders, and one waved at the plane, gesticulating. 

“I get you!” Jimmy yelled and nosed his plane 
down to a field from which he taxied almost up 
to the front door of a rambling wooden house. 

A grinning black man came running, and in a 
few moments he was followed by Mrs. Sims’s 
brother, Stanley Thompson, tall and slim like his 
sister and with the same kindly smile and bright 
blue eyes. He welcomed the party cordially. Mrs. 
Thompson came running, a pretty flower-like 
woman with lovely fair hair and complexion such 


140 


A CATTLE STATION 


141 


as English women so often have. There was a boy 
and a girl, too, but at first they were shy. 

“You can’t imagine what it means to have guests 
like you,” the hostess cried, tears in her eyes. “This 
country is popularly called 'back of beyond/ and 
that’s no misnomer. Though I do love it, because 
it’s home.” 

The MacLarens soon realized that they were 
far from railways. This cattle station wasn’t like 
the sheep station they had visited. There were no 
electric lights for one thing, and, of course, no 
electric refrigerator. Isabel showed Nancy how 
water was cooled in canvas sacks on the shady 
veranda. 

George, the son of the house, immediately in¬ 
quired of Peter about the Western cowboys in the 
United States. He had seen them in motion pic¬ 
tures, carrying lariats and wearing six-shooters 
on their thighs. He was curious also about 
rustling. 

“Don’t you have cowboys and rustling here?” 
Peter asked. “It’s cattle country.” 

“Our cow hands are quite different,” George 
declared. “Our branding isn’t done by catching an 
animal with a lariat and throwing him. We pen 
our beasts in a system of gates. A herd of cattle 
we call a 'mob.’ As for rustling — we call it 
'duffing’ here—there just isn’t much. Distances 
are too great to get stock to market.” 

Riding out with George, Peter learned many 
things about the great cattle business. He learned 




142 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Publishers’ Photo Service 

A MOB OF CATTLE FORDING A STREAM 

that the herds had to be fattened in good pasture 
before being brought to the ranch to be branded, 
sorted, and transported to market. He learned 
that the success of a cattle station depended almost 
solely upon the amount of food and water available. 
Dried up or stagnant water holes and parched or 
burned pasture were the greatest worries. 

“We have ten mustering camps,” George ex¬ 
plained. “It takes from four to six months to 
handle all our stock. I’d say we ship about twenty 
thousand head a year. Did you notice this trail?” 

“Yes,” Peter answered. “It seems to be fairly 
well marked.” 




A CATTLE STATION 


143 


“It’s part of the system of stock routes main¬ 
tained by the government,” George explained. 
“You see, in sending stock to a shipping point, it’s 
a problem to keep the cattle watered. By missing 
a spring or a stream, or billabong , as we call a 
water hole, the riders might lose a whole mob. 
You can see how important a route is that keeps 
animals from dying of thirst. Where there isn’t 
enough water naturally, the government has dug 
wells or made artesian bores with long lines of 
drinking troughs. They’ve saved many a mob 
of cattle.” 

“How many of these routes are there?” Peter 
asked, thinking of the vast territory to be covered. 

“Three main ones, I’d say,” George responded. 
“One begins up in the tablelands of Northern 
Territory and goes down to places like Brisbane. 
Another starts in southwest Queensland and con¬ 
tacts railways and ports in New South Wales. 
Still a third connects Western Australia with 
Wyndham where meatworks operate in the winter 
months. The fellows who tend the cattle have to 
be a hardy lot. They’re of the best, believe me. 
But, of course, it isn’t a very romantic life down 
here.” 

Peter thought it was a romantic life. He could 
see the drivers riding along mile after mile on 
horseback, whistling and singing as the grimy dust 
rose up about them. He could see the night camps 
with tireless riders circling the herds to prevent 
stampedes. He could see those long trails to market, 



144 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


the bawling animals kicking up dust with their 
horns sometimes clashing as the impatient herd 
neared a water hole. Yes, Peter thought it was 
romantic. 

Back at the house after a fine dinner, Isabel 
suggested some radio music. 

“You said,” Peter reminded George, “that you 
had nothing modern here.” 

“We do have a fine radio.” George looked 
proud. “We have a sending set, too. IPs very 
useful. When I broke my leg, Father got a surgeon 
to come by airplane. This surgeon was attending 
a patient down in southern Queensland, a wheat 
grower.” 

“Wheat grower?” Nancy settled comfortably 
into one of the big living room chairs. “I thought 
most of the wheat was grown in Western 
Australia.” 

“Not at all.” Mr. Thompson, turning the dials 
of the radio, looked up. “There is much wheat in 
the plains of southern Queensland and New South 
Wales. There’s some in Victoria, too. If Jimmy 
had flown lower, you would have seen the fields. 
Western Australia does boast that it has three 
million acres under cultivation, and I must admit 
the boast is honest. You must have seen con¬ 
siderable wheat on the docks in Sydney and other 
ports. We bag our grain here rather than store 
it, although in Sydney there are some huge grain 
elevators.” 

“We’ve seen them,” Peter nodded. 



A CATTLE STATION 


145 


“Ever heard of the Mallee?” Mr. Thompson con¬ 
tinued. “Well, part of South Australia and also 
part of northwest Victoria were once known as the 
Mallee. The name comes from a eucalyptus shrub, 
which is hard to uproot. For years farmers 
thought that any land where the mallee grew was 
waste. Then some determined chap hitched a team 
of oxen to an old boiler filled with stones and 
crushed the brush on his land so that it could be 
burned. Then another chap invented a stump¬ 
jumping plow that could make the land ready for 
planting in spite of old roots. Today you’ll see 
grain waving where the mallee was once king. 
Takes a lot of faith and courage to win over a new 
land.” 

“You Australians surely have both,” Peter de¬ 
clared. He added, “Of course, the only Australians 
we’ve met have been white men. We’d like to see 
some aborigines in their homes.” 

“There are about sixty aborigines in Victoria, 
live ones.” Mr. Thompson was chuckling. “There 
are less than a thousand in New South Wales, 
thirteen thousand in Queensland, twenty thousand 
in Northern Territory, and only about twenty-five 
thousand in Western Australia. The government 
is trying to protect them and has established 
reserves for them, much as your government has 
established reserves for your Indians. Of course, 
you know that our so-called black men are not 
Negroes. Show the MacLarens those pictures we 
took on that trip into the bush, George.” 



146 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Australian Press Bureau 

ABORIGINES OF AUSTRALIA 

While George went to look for his pictures, 
Isabel showed Nancy an account of Captain Cook’s 
discoveries and read aloud his first description of 
the Australian natives. “Very small limbs, their 
complexions deep chocolate, their hair black, either 
lank or curled, but not of the woolly kind.” 

Then Isabel added, “They aren’t really black. 
They’re more red-brown in color. Even their hair 
isn’t perfectly black. And in the central part of 
Western Australia there are actually some natives 
with tawny hair. They have, however, the same 
features as the others,” 







A CATTLE STATION 


147 


Mrs. Thompson pointed out that more important 
than anything else, at least to the scientists, was 
the fact that the hair of the aborigine was not 
woolly or frizzy like an Africans. Even when it 
was wavy, she said, it was wavy only to the same 
extent as a European’s. It is thought, she de¬ 
clared, these people came from India, probably 
making the trip from island to island over a period 
of many years. 

On some of the primitive men Peter noticed 
great welts, like ridges, arranged in patterns on 
chest or back. “Keloid scars,” George called them 
and said they were made by deep knife gashes 
that were not allowed to heal. Keloid scars were 
much more primitive than tattooing. In some of 
the remote areas of the interior the aborigines still 
lived after the fashion of the Stone Age. They 
hunted their food with spear, stone ax, and boom¬ 
erang, and wore no clothes of any description. 

“Doesn’t look like much of a house.” Nancy 
was peeking over George’s shoulder at a picture of 
a hut before which stood a native woman and 
some naked children. “It looks more like a pile 
of brush.” 

“It’s a wurley,” Isabel explained as she joined 
Nancy. “It’s made by planting stakes in the 
ground in horseshoe shape, bending them together, 
tying them, and thatching them with boughs. 
Sometimes bark is added, and I’ve even seen a 
government blanket thrown over a wurley. No 
one needs a really warm house. Our Australian 



148 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


climate, even in the coldest months, is mild. The 
temperature rarely goes below fifty degrees. A 
little fire in front of a wurley is all the heat a family 
needs.” 

“I suppose the women make pottery,” Nancy 
ventured. 

“No,” Isabel answered. “Nor have they learned 
to plant seeds. The women do collect food, 
however, in their skin or net bags, edible roots 
or grubs,, shellfish and nuts, especially the bunya- 
bunya. And they have a sort of tobacco they dry. 
The men will climb a tree to bring down honey, as 
every native likes it.” 

“No bread?” Peter inquired. 

“Yes. Of a sort.” George hesitated. “There’s 
a fern called nardoo . It’s peculiar in that it spills 
its seed cases on the dried mud of pools. The 
women gather these seeds and grind them into a 
paste. The slabs they use for the work are called 
nardoo stones.” 

“How about canoes?” Peter inquired. 

^ “They make canoes all right,” George answered. 
“Some of them are very crude bark affairs, but 
we’ve seen some fine dugout canoes made of 
eucalyptus trees.” 

“I suppose they all use boomerangs,” Peter 
guessed. 

“Boomerangs and throwing sticks and stone 
knives and stone axes.” George checked them off. 
“Every outsider thinks most about the boomerangs. 
I’d say the stone axes were most important. They’re 




Australian Press Bureau 

ABORIGINE CLIMBING A TREE TO BRING DOWN HONEY 




150 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


used to notch trees for climbing and for all sorts 
of other work. The womerah is important as an aid 
to spear-throwing. It’s a lever eighteen inches long 
with a bone spike at one end. You’ll have to visit 
a few of our natives in their own woods. See them 
make fire by drill, like scouts. Maybe you’ll even 
be invited to attend a corroboree .” 

“What’s a corroboree?” Peter and Nancy asked 
in one voice. 

“A corroboree is a kind of festival the natives 
have to celebrate important tribal events.” Mr. 
Thompson was speaking from his corner near the 
bookcase. “It’s great fun to look on.” 

The black man who had come to welcome the 
plane appeared in the doorway, his face wreathed 
in smiles. He seemed to enjoy his life on the 
station. Compared to some of his relatives who 
lived in the bush, he must have had an easy time 
of it. He had gone to a missionary school where 
he had learned to wear clothing and to speak 
English, after a fashion. Therefore he was con¬ 
sidered civilized. 

“Kadok is an aborigine,” Isabel said. “He has 
a pet dingo, a wild dog that he has tamed. And he’s 
our very best tracker when anyone is lost in the 
forests. We are very fond of him. He’s a real 
Australian.” 



THE BOWERBIRD 


K ADOK, the black fellow at the cattle station, 
. was an amazing person. He had heard much 
of the country from which the MacLarens had come, 
and his remarks indicated that he thought Aus¬ 
tralia was “right side up” and that the United 
States were, as he said “up side down.” 

He would remark, “Summer here, winter there! 
No good! Day here, night there. Australian com¬ 
pass point south; your compass point north. Our 
north wind hot; your north wind cold. Our south 
wind cold; your south wind hot. Our swans are 
black; your swans are white. You all turned 
round!” 

Then he would indulge in a deep chuckle or 
childish high laughter. 

“Kadok, you should be able to show me the 
bowerbird if anyone can,” Nancy decided one 
morning as she stood on the porch steps waiting 
for Peter to bring her mount from the paddock. 
“Long time, Missy.” 

“I know. But you could. How long would it 
take?” 

“Eighty-eight days, maybe.” 

“Eighty-eight days!” Nancy could not under¬ 
stand. “Eighty-eight days?” 

Isabel came out on the porch in riding blouse 
and breeches. 


151 


152 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


“ What’s this about eighty-eight days?” she 
inquired. 

“Kadok says it might be eighty-eight days before 
we find a bowerbird. We won’t be here that long.” 

As Kadok left the porch, Isabel said, “He means 
any day beyond the tenth. The natives never count 
over ten, the number of the fingers. Anything 
over ten is eighty-eight.” 

“But why?” Nancy inquired. “Why eighty- 
eight?” 

“No one knows,” Isabel admitted. 

But one morning soon afterward, Kadok did 
take the four young people to look for the bower- 
bird. 

The trail was often so overgrown that Kadok 
had to cut away the lacings of vines and under¬ 
brush. The maidenhair and coral ferns were 
tender, green and lovely, and the velvet brown 
tree ferns rose high, wearing coronets of fronds 
like queens. Above them grew sassafras and myrtle. 
There was the fragrance of hibiscus on the wind 
and the beauty of orchids hanging in tall trees. 
The greatest bar to progress was the vines and 
lianas in hopelessly tangled masses. 

Once the little party stopped at a green pool, 
and a snake slid away into the grass. 

“Look out!” George exclaimed. “That snake is 
poisonous. Here’s hoping we don’t meet a tree 
python. They’re too big to be ignored.” 

“That log over there isn’t a log,” Peter decided. 
“It’s a crocodile!” 




Publishers’ Photo Service 


THE TRAIL WAS OFTEN OVERGROWN 




154 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


“Yamin!” Kadok exclaimed, “ Ya-wi chase 

u Yamin means crocodile,” George explained. 
“And Ya-wi is the black man’s snake god. He has 
other gods, too. Baiame is the chief god and Buba 
the kangaroo god and Yo-wi the fever god. Kurm- 
kurru is the Dew Dropper or Mist Gatherer. Funny 
thing, but Kadok accepts our Christianity right 
along with his native lore.” 

Gray moss hung in festoons from tall trees and 
brushed like a veil across the riders’ eyes. Spinifex 
prickles stuck into arms and legs whenever anyone 
Tjvalked along a trail leading a horse. Gaily 
colored parrots chattered, and curious white 
cockatoos flew down about this strange procession, 
while wild turkeys fled before Kadok’s approach. 
Once Kadok pointed out a great palm cockatoo and 
a cockatoo parrot, Australia’s largest and smallest, 
sitting side by side on the limb of a tree. 

On the trail the black man picked some wild 
pears that had a hard rind but were delicious in 
flavor. Later he offered the girls a treat, cherries 
with their stones outside instead of inside the 
pulp. 

George told Peter and Nancy to watch for birds 
and animals in the trees. They might, he said, run 
across an Australian opossum, one of the most 
beautiful animals of the Australian bush. 

“They sleep in the trees of the forests during the 
day and come out to feed at night,” said George 
“They are valued for their beautiful fur ” 





Australian Press Bureau 

A GREAT PALM COCKATOO AND A COCKATOO PARROT 




Australian Press Bureau 

AUSTRALIAN OPOSSUMS 




THE BOWERBIRD 


157 


Suddenly a small bird whirled up across the 
path. Nancy glanced at the tree from which it 
had flown, then chanced to look beneath the tree. 
And there it was, as lovely a playground as a bird 
could have ! Her heart beating happily, she went 
closer, for she knew she had found the home of a 
bowerbird. 

The bird had made a little clearing beneath the 
tree and there had built its playground. There 
was a floor of tiny sticks and over this a little 
bower of twigs and grasses into which the bird 
had woven bright feathers, tiny shells, and bits of 
shiny stone. It was the loveliest, most delicate 
thing Nancy had seen in all her travels. 

“And to think that I found it by myself at last!” 
exclaimed Nancy. 



A HEART-SHAPED LAND OF BEAUTY 


R ISING into the air over Melbourne the plane 
' carrying the MacLarens sailed out over Bass 
Strait, bound for Tasmania. Tasmania, Peter and 
Nancy knew, was Australia’s island state and was 
separated from it at the southeastern tip by the 
two-hundred-mile-wide strait. A heart-shaped 
island it was, Uncle Lee said, with a heart-warm¬ 
ing beauty. 

It had been discovered by the Dutch navigator, 
Tasman, in 1642, but Tasman did not claim it for 
the Dutch. Two hundred years later the British 
took it over for a penal colony. At Port Arthur, 
it was said, the ruins of that first settlement might 
be seen. 

“I’d rather think of Tasmania as the orchard 
of Australia,” Nancy declared, “than as a penal 
colony. The fruits at the hotel were from 
Tasmania, Peter. Did you ever taste better 
cherries or apples? The strawberries and rasp¬ 
berries were as rich in flavor as those at home. 
Never did I see such pears or grapes, Peter! The 
head waiter said that if Tasmania made jam for 
the world, there’d be only excellent jam on our 
tables. Peter, what’s the capital of Tasmania?” 

“I don’t know,” Peter answered. “We land at 
Launceston and then motor to the capital. What 
is it, Uncle Lee?” 


158 


A HEART-SHAPED LAND OF BEAUTY 


159 



Ewing Galloway 

TASMANIA, THE ORCHARD OF AUSTRALIA 


“Hobart,” Uncle Lee replied distinctly. “Once 
you’ve seen it, you won’t forget it.” 

“That can’t be Tasmania!” Nancy looked down 
on a tiny islet. 

“No, indeed!” Uncle Lee was positive. “There 
are about fifty islets like that belonging to Tas¬ 
mania, and most of them are between it and the 
southern shore of Victoria in Bass Strait.” 

When the plane did circle over Tasmania, there 
was no mistaking Tasman’s discovery. The center 
of the island was a mass of high hills covered with 
forests and set with jeweled, blue lakes. Uncle 
Lee had been right. It was a land of beauty. 





160 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


“No wonder the Australians pick it as a summer 
resort!” Nancy exclaimed. 

“Bracing air! Magnificent forests!” Uncle 
Lee enumerated. “Secluded fern dales with fairy 
waterfalls!” 

“Listen to the bally-hoo!” Peter teased. 

“I don’t have to advertise Tasmania,” Uncle Lee 
observed calmly. “If you had been in Sydney or 
Brisbane or even Melbourne in December, you 
would understand. The heat of the summer is then 
upon the citizens. The migration to Tasmania be¬ 
gins around the first of December. Cool fresh air 
in exchange for humid hot air, sparkling water in 
exchange for such sluggish streams as the Yarra, 
and mountain scenery in place of sand dunes!” 

The plane droned on. Sailing gracefully down 
onto the Launceston field, it settled with scarcely 
a jolt. Uncle Lee hired a car for the day and the 
party drove to Hobart. 

The car dipped down into fertile valleys among 
rugged hills. Flocks of sheep grazed peacefully 
on gentle slopes where shepherds watched them 
quietly. The car passed willow-bordered rivers 
where sleek cattle drank. It ran close beside a 
hawthorn hedge still fragrant with bloom, and it 
purred past neat stone houses with clean, bright 
gardens. Once a glen opened up, a glen with deep 
ferns and a beautiful waterfall. Nancy was about 
to remark that it reminded her most of an English 
scene when Peter pointed out a patch of golden 
wattle and a venerable eucalyptus tree. 



A HEART-SHAPED LAND OF BEAUTY 


161 



A GLEN WITH DEEP FERNS AND A WATERFALL 

Coming out at last to a view of the sea, the 
children exclaimed in delight. Never, never be¬ 
fore had they seen a more beautiful spot for a 
city. Fair Hobart! They never would forget it. 


James Sawders 






162 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


Hobart, capital of Tasmania! Blue, sparkling sea 
at its front door, a beautiful river with green 
banks at its side, and a forest at its bank that 
rose up and up until it became a mountain forest! 
The river, Uncle Lee said, was the Derwent, and 
the mountain was Mount Wellington. In the deep 
bay sails and masts rose toward the clear blue. 
And stretching out from the business district were 
homes, hundreds and hundreds of them. 

“The second oldest city in Australia,” Uncle Lee 
said. 

He drove the car through wide streets, and here 
and there he pointed out buildings put up by 
convict labor. 

Near the wharves the MacLarens discovered the 
Parliament House, the city hall, and the museum. 

“Such as we’ve seen in every English city,” 
Peter grumbled, “that we’ve ever visited. A little 
variation, but not much.” 

“Come in here.” IJncle Lee insisted. 

He dragged the children into the museum where 
he pointed out the remains of the last full-blooded 
aboriginal Tasmanian. 

“Look at that skull!” He pointed dramatically. 
“You’ll never see anything like that again, Peter. 
That skull belonged to a princess, and the last of 
her tribe. She died in 1876, and scientists have 
come from all over the world to measure her skull. 
Her tribe was supposed to have been even more 
primitive than the black men of the Australian 
mainland.” 




Ewing Galloway 

PARLIAMENT HOUSE IN HOBART 







164 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


“I haven’t seen any aborigines on the Australian 
mainland,” Peter complained. 

“Ninety-seven per cent British in Australia, 
Peter!” Nancy was having fun at Uncle Lee’s 
expense. “Remember that! It doesn’t leave much 
space for aborigines.” 

Uncle Lee did not comment, but there was a 
prophetic gleam in his bright blue eyes. 

At the wharves ships were being loaded with 
apples, lumber, and wool, and even hops and 
minerals. 

“It is fully a month’s voyage from Hobart to 
London,” Uncle Lee said, “yet these ships carry 
fruits to the British Isles, in refrigerated holds, of 
course.” 

He turned toward the business district with 
Peter and Nancy, telling about Hobart’s electrical 
power. “This electricity is generated at hydro¬ 
electric works that utilize the water from- Great 
Lake in the high plateau of central Tasmania. 
The cheap power is valuable in the zinc works, 
for one thing. But getting back to the cheap 
electricity, it’s used in the chocolate and food fac¬ 
tories. The berries and apples are made inexpen¬ 
sively into delicious jams and jellies.” 

“We mustn’t forget the jam,” Peter agreed. 

Uncle Lee was already in the car and, with one 
last look at the busy wharves, Peter and Nancy 
climbed in beside him. 

They drove out along flowery streets and into 
the suburbs where Uncle Lee said people really 



A HEART-SHAPED LAND OF BEAUTY 


165 


lived. In fact, he insisted that all of Hobart en¬ 
joyed the fine climate, the magnificent scenery, and 
the prosperity that came to the islanders from their 
sheep, their forests, their mines, and their fruit 
farms. He pointed out the castle turrets of the 
Government House on a hill above the river, the 
zoological park and the botanical gardens as well. 
And then the MacLarens waved a gay farewell as 
they swung back into the country road that wound 
among the hills and would take them back to the 
airport. 

“Sixty thousand people in Hobart!” Uncle Lee 
exclaimed. “Every one of them should be happy!” 





A GARDEN CITY AND A GREAT PLAIN 


B ACK to Melbourne flew the MacLaren party. 

Jimmy said good-by to them as they boarded 
the Melbourne-Adelaide train, and promised to 
meet them in Perth. 

With only a twenty-minute stop at Ballarat of 
gold fame, and another short stop the following 
morning, the train pulled into Adelaide. 

“Pm quoting Viscount Bryce, a great traveler,” 
said Uncle Lee as he picked up his bags, “when I 
say that Adelaide is the nearest approach to a 
garden city that I have ever seen.” 

Peter and Nancy observed, as they drove to their 
hotel, that Adelaide, five miles in from the coast, 
had been laid out on a plain, circled on one side 
by hills. The square mile of business blocks was 
entirely surrounded by a belt of park land. 

“There are two thousand acres in that park,” 
Uncle Lee informed the children. “A city can have 
big parks only when the city is planned before 
any building starts. Beyond the park zone are 
the homes and a number of suburban districts.” 

During their morning drive the MacLarens 
discovered the Torrens River between the commer¬ 
cial district and North Adelaide, where most of 
the lovely homes had been built. This river, Uncle 
Lee explained, had been artificially dammed to 
make a long, slender lake. The banks, bright with 


166 


A GARDEN CITY AND A GREAT PLAIN 


167 


flower beds, sloped down from the North Terrace. 
On this terrace stood the imposing Parliament 
Buildings, Government House, the library, the 
museum, Adelaide University, and the new School 
of Mines. 

“So many educational buildings!” exclaimed 
Peter. “And such handsome ones! People must 
love learning in South Australia.” 

“Adelaide is often called the cultural city of 
Australia,” Uncle Lee remarked. “South Australia 
has more teachers and schools in proportion to its 
population than any other state except Tasmania. 
By the way, you youngsters must take a nap some 
time today. You will be up after your usual hours 
tonight. This happens to be late-closing night.” 

Nancy looked puzzled, but Peter said, “The 
Powries told me about late-closing night! It seems 
to be a custom in every Australian city and town 
to have one night in the week when the stores keep 
open and everybody celebrates, much like our 
Saturday nights back home. Donald says he and 
Alice often stay up later on late-closing night 
in Sydney.” 

The long afternoon drive that followed a bounti¬ 
ful lunch led to the outskirts of Adelaide where the 
children saw the great vineyards of which Adelaide 
was so proud. Beyond the vineyards were the 
wheat fields, seemingly without any limit, against 
the sky line. 

Uncle Lee could not resist taking time to see 
Port Adelaide and Outer Harbor, several miles 



168 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

A WOOL-STORAGE WAREHOUSE 

northwest of the city. Here Peter and Nancy 
scanned the busy wharves where wheat, wool, 
wines, and fruit had been garnered from the coun¬ 
try districts to be sent to the four corners of the 
earth. 

“South Australia,” Uncle Lee observed, “is the 
second largest wheat-growing state in Australia. 
It also produces three-fourths of the wine output.” 

The naps were cut short, but, true to his promise, 
Uncle Lee gave Peter and Nancy a joyful evening. 
An early movie was followed by a tour through the 




A GARDEN CITY AND A GREAT PLAIN 


169 


smart shops. The shopping, so Nancy declared, 
was of the window variety. 

Then, just before midnight, the little party 
motored up Mount Lofty and looked down on the 
brightly lighted city. 

“Over three hundred thousand people!” Uncle 
Lee cried. 

“And over a million lights!” Peter shouted 
jubilantly. 

“Perth!” Uncle Lee exclaimed next morning. 

He had an excited look in his bright blue eyes that 
always meant to Peter and Nancy, “Now we’re 
going to see something worth while.” 

He was packing the grips most carefully, with 
Nancy helping and Peter looking on. 

“Perth’s the capital of Western Australia, isn’t 
it?” Peter inquired. “Whatever else may be said 
for Western Australia, it’s big! On the map it looks 
like a third of the bottom part of Australia.” 

“It’s only a three-day journey from Adelaide 
to Perth,” Nancy declared. “That is what the 
hotel man told Uncle Lee.” 

“Only!” Uncle Lee spoke severely. “Let me tell 
you youngsters that the Australians who managed 
to make the distance from Adelaide to Perth a 
three-day journey were nothing short of miracle- 
workers.” 

Uncle Lee painted a vivid picture for his nephew 
and his niece. Up to 1917, he said, the only way 
to reach the distant capital was by sea. The sea 
voyage was always a long, stormy one, entailing 



170 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


no end of misery. The Great Australian Bight was 
seldom calm. But railway men of those days had 
vision, and by 1917 ribbons of steel were running 
between Port Augusta and Kalgoorlie. The Trans- 
Australian Railway was completed. A gap of over 
a thousand miles between lines already built had 
been bridged. The desert had been crossed! 

“We’ll see where the railway workers built their 
railway,” Peter exulted. 

“Yes, you’ll see,” Uncle Lee agreed. “When 
you do, you’ll be able to guess at the courage and 
enterprise it took to make travel comfortable for 
globe-trotters like us.” 

The party left Adelaide that morning, and for 
hours Peter and Nancy looked out on farming 
country. There were fresh pastures with cattle 
grazing, hillsides on which sheep nibbled good 
grass, gardens without number, and miles of wheat 
beginning to ripen. A few hours later the Mac- 
Larens changed trains at Terowie for the journey 
to Port Augusta. 

That night about ten o’clock Peter and Nancy 
were called from their naps to pick up their luggage 
and to change to the Trans-Australian train. 
All night long it sped through the lake country. 

It seemed anything but lake country, Peter de¬ 
clared next morning, for the lakes were all salt 
lakes. Mile after mile dry beds of salt appeared, 
stretching out into the blackness. 

The flat sandy country changed to hilly sandy 
country. This was the sand-hill belt, so Uncle Lee 



A GARDEN CITY AND A GREAT PLAIN 


171 


informed the children, as they looked out at the 
scrub bushes that grew on the dry hills. 

“If those bushes didn’t hold down the dusty 
earth,” he explained, “it would blow away.” 

The rays of the morning sun slanted across the 
sandy, scrubby land until the sand hills began to 
melt behind the speeding train. The world became 
just a flat expanse, deserted, forbidding. Coarse 
grasses that grew in occasional tufts were gray- 
green. The two subdued onlookers were surprised 
to hear Uncle Lee say in a matter-of-fact way, 
“Nullarbor Plain.” 

“Good name for it,” Peter remarked. “ 'Null’ 
means nothing, and 'arbor’ means trees or plants. 
There certainly are no green things.” 

“That plain is limestone,” Uncle Lee explained. 
“Saltbush and bluebush are dull and dry-looking 
shrubs.” 

“Just on and on and on!” Nancy was amazed. 
“When will the plain end?” 

“This road runs straight ahead three hundred 
miles,” Uncle Lee answered. “There isn’t a curve 
in it. We shall see nothing but this sand country 
until tomorrow morning.” 

It was almost noon of the following day before 
Uncle Lee was able to point out even a few dwarfed 
trees. The train was nearing Kalgoorlie. 

“Sandalwood!” he announced, pointing at the 
trees. “I’ll get Nancy a sandalwood box at Perth, 
which will be something to help her remember this 
trip through the desert.” 



172 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


From time to time the train had been halting 
at stations where railway men were camped. Now 
all the passengers were preparing to depart. 

“We change trains at Kalgoorlie," Uncle Lee 
explained, “and board the Western Australian line. 
But we'll take time to see the town." 

“I wouldn't miss seeing The Golden Mile,' " 
Peter cried. 

Kalgoorlie proved to be just a squat little mining 
town except for the man-made mountains rising 
beside the series of gold mines known as “The 
Golden Mile." These mountains fascinated Peter. 
Miners had shoveled up the tailings of finely 
pulverized rocks until the mounds reached heights 
of two hundred and fifty feet or more. 

“Two million tons of tailings!" Uncle Lee in¬ 
formed Peter. “This refuse has been flooded on 
the dump from the gold-extraction mills, you 
know. The water that washes out the gold is piped 
three hundred miles." 

“These Australians certainly don't seem to mind 
work, do they?" Peter exclaimed in admiration, as 
the trio walked to the station. 

“I'll be glad to see water again," Nancy declared 
as the train pulled out of Kalgoorlie. “We didn't 
cross a single real river on this whole trip." 

The train crossed the wheat belt, so famous 
throughout Western Australia, and began to twist 
through woodlands where flowers bloomed on the 
hillsides. Then, at last, on a bright, beautiful 
morning it pulled into the station at Perth. 




Ewing Galloway 

AUSTRALIAN MINERS AT WORK 




174 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



James Sawders 


A GREAT WHEAT FIELD 

“A prosperous city!” Uncle Lee cried enthusi¬ 
astically as he led Peter and Nancy to a taxi. 
“Nearly 180,000 people! It commenced to prosper 
with the help of Coolgardie and Kalgoorlie; but 
gold isn’t nearly so important now to Perth’s pros¬ 
perity as wool and wheat, particularly wheat. 
That great wheat belt means much to this whole 
west coast.” 

The business district seemed very fresh and clean 
to Peter and Nancy, and this was understandable 
when Uncle Lee explained that Perth was a com¬ 
paratively new town. 

Nancy was delighted to find that it was built 
on the banks of a river called the Swan. The 



A GARDEN CITY AND A GREAT PLAIN 


175 



esplanade bordering the water front was decidedly 
attractive with its walks, its gardens, and its drives. 

As soon as the MacLarens had finished lunching 
at their hotel, they took a walk along the principal 
shopping streets. Most of the stores and shops had 
awnings over the sidewalks. 

“The shade makes window-shopping a joy, in 
rain or shine,” Nancy declared. 

Uncle Lee hailed a cab. 

“King's Park!” he called as he helped Nancy in 
and made room for Peter. “I want you to see it 
because it's different from any park you've yet 


THE CITY OF PERTH 




176 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


seen in an* Australian city. It has been left in its 
wild state.” 

The park proved to be a thousand-acre reserve 
on highlands west of the city along the river bank. 
It was a delightful place in which to roam. Wild 
flowers carpeted the ground, and kookaburras 
laughed from the brush. Parrots and cockatoos 
screeched, and love birds nestled close together 
among the green leaves so like their own lovely 
coloring. A glorious song came from a black-and- 
white magpie’s throat and a bellbird sang as he 
flew deeper into the forest. A wild duck went 
winging out toward the river. 

For the first time Nancy saw the flowers known 
as “kangaroo paws.” They had been so named 
because the flat, budlike flowers that grew on long 
slender stems resembled the paws of the kangaroo. 
These flowers were mostly red, but Uncle Lee said 
there were also other colors. 

“Kangaroo paws are Western Australia’s floral 
emblem,” Uncle Lee informed Nancy. 

Perth reminded both Peter and Nancy of a 
California city, and they were not surprised to 
learn that Perth maintained an up-to-date air 
service. They were watching an air-mail pilot 
take off into the wind and circle around to his 
course when Jimmy Dustin’s plane appeared. 

“Hi, Jimmy!” shouted Peter as the plane taxied 
up to the hangar. 

“If you’re ready to take off,” Jimmy called to 
Uncle Lee, “we’ll follow that plane to Broome.” 



HEAD-HUNTERS AND TREE-DWELLERS 


F ROM the low-flying plane Peter and Nancy- 
gazed down at Broome in answer to Jimmy’s 
shout and laughed heartily at the sight of a big 
steamer lying high and dry on the gray mud of 
the harbor. Several excited little boys were walk¬ 
ing around the boat, picking up crabs and squids. 

“The tide’s out, that’s all,” Uncle Lee explained. 
“When it rises, the steamer will float all right 
and will be able to get out of the harbor.” 

Other planes besides Jimmy’s were on the land¬ 
ing field. One plane had just come from Perth. 

The weather was very hot. Uncle Lee said that 
it was not unusual weather, since eighty was the 
average temperature in Broome. 

The streets of the town extended along the shore 
for a mile or so, right up to the mouth of a muddy 
swamp filled with mangrove trees. 

The wharf was a busy place with fleets of luggers 
coming in. 

Knowing of the White-Australia Policy which 
did not encourage immigration from the East, 
Peter and Nancy were surprised to find the streets 
swarming with Japanese, Malays, Filipinos, and 
other foreigners. 

“There are six hundred British and about twelve 
hundred Japs in Broome,” Uncle Lee informed 
the children. “There’s a reason. The Japanese 


177 


178 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


are naturally fine pearl divers, a job for which 
the Australians are not well suited. Many of the 
dealers are British, of course.” 

“Are many pearls found?” Nancy inquired. 

“Not so many,” Uncle Lee replied, “as the divers 
might wish. One thousand-dollar pearl is worth 
a ton of pearl shell.” 

“I like the streets very much,” Nancy declared 
as the party turned off into the residential district. 
“I think they’re as lovely as any we’ve seen in 
Australia. And I didn’t expect to find such streets 
here. The trees all seem to be native.” 

“They are,” Uncle Lee agreed. He added, “Go 
to the hotel and get some sleep, Jimmy. We’ll join 
you there later.” 

Jimmy was glad to accept the suggestion. 

The poinciana trees with their fernlike leaves 
were full of lovely red flowers as exquisite as 
orchids. Baobab trees, with their bottle-shaped 
stems, were laden with huge nuts. A few coconut 
palms flaunted their graceful, waving leaves. Had 
it not been for the pest of white ants, there would 
have been many more citrus trees. 

“Back of Broome is the ‘pindan’ country, where 
the scrub called pindan grows,” Uncle Lee said, 
mopping his brow. “Pretty good cattle business 
there, just the same.” 

The uncomfortable heat was forgotten in the 
cool rooms of the modern hotel facing the water. 

“Tomorrow,” said Uncle Lee, “we’re going to 
visit one more town in Australia, the only one of 



HEAD-HUNTERS AND TREE-DWELLERS 


179 


any importance at all on the north coast. The 
White-Australia Policy seems to be even less in 
force there than it is in Broome.” 

“Darwin?” Peter inquired. 

“Darwin,” Uncle Lee repeated. “I wonder what 
its future will be. Of course there are gold mines 
and tin mines close by. There is some cattle rais¬ 
ing, too.” 

The following morning saw Jimmy's plane 
winging its way northeastward. 

Darwin seemed to hang on a cliff. It was built 
on a promontory fifty feet above sea level. The 
steep cliffs slanted to the sea which surrounded 
the town on three sides. It was a little city of a 
few thousand people, including many Chinese. 

Some English scientists happened to be in 
Darwin on their way to Papua. Hearing that 
Jimmy and the MacLarens were planning to fly 
over to Papua, or New Guinea as it is often called, 
the Englishmen asked to join the party. 

“Well, Peter,” Jimmy said as he climbed into 
the cockpit, “I’m taking you to the world's second 
largest island. We have to concede Greenland first 
place. Papua is about fifteen hundred miles long, 
and it lies just below the equator, so we won't 
suffer from cold there.” 

“In how many hours do you think you can make 
Port?” one of the Englishmen inquired. 

“Don't know,” Jimmy answered. To Nancy he 
explained, “He means Port Moresby, capital of 
the Territory of Papua, which, by the way, is now 




180 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


governed by Australia though owned by Great 
Britain. The western half of the island is owned 
by the Netherlands.” 

“It has plenty of rain,” one of the Englishmen 
commented, “and roaring rivers with deltas and 
flood areas like your Mississippi, and mountains 
larger than any in the United States.” 

“And it has some of the most savage natives on 
the face of the globe right now,” the other English¬ 
man declared. “Head-hunters and tree-dwellers, 
and a choice between giants and pygmies! But 
there are sugar-cane gardens there that may mean 
something to agriculture in the future.” 

“A land of coconuts and cannibals,” Uncle Lee 
added. “A land of witchcraft and sense! A land 
of swamps and mountains! A land of birds of 
paradise and cassowaries! Likewise carpet 
snakes, leeches, and mosquitoes!” 

“What are cassowaries?” Nancy inquired. 

“A cassowary, little lady,” said the younger sci¬ 
entist, “is a large, unwieldy fowl that can run like 
the wind. Once for a whole week I lived on casso¬ 
wary sausage. I wouldn’t recommend it as a 
delicacy.” 

“You might stay in Port when we land,” sug¬ 
gested the older man. “The natives are, at best, 
not peaceful.” 

“But some of them are civilized, aren’t they?” 
Nancy inquired. 

“You might call it that,” the scientist admitted. 
“Some of them work in the coconut groves, some 



HEAD-HUNTERS AND TREE-DWELLERS 


181 



Publishers’ Photo Service 

A CASSOWARY 

on the rubber and sisal plantations, and others in 
the gold and pearl industries. But education does 
not take so well with them, though you will find 
boys and girls near the town of Port Moresby who 
have gone to school and have learned to read and 
write very well.” 

The sea looked stormy, and Jimmy nosed his 
plane downward. 

“Look for a rain-water reservoir that's as big 
as all outdoors, Peter,” he said, “and you may be 
sure it's Port Moresby. You'll see it on the slope 
of a hill.” 





182 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



James Sawders 


HEAD-HUNTERS FROM THE HILLS 

Nearing Port Moresby the plane passed over 
villages built beside the water. The brown houses 
with their thatched roofs looked, so Jimmy re¬ 
marked, like pointed baskets on stilts. 




HEAD-HUNTERS AND TREE-DWELLERS 


183 


“Why do the natives build their houses so high 
off the ground?” Nancy inquired. 

“They are afraid of head-hunters from the hills,” 
Jimmy explained. “The natives build their homes 
along the shores because there is so much travel by 
canoe. That is the reason you see so many dugout 
canoes near the houses.” 

Parched hills came into view as the plane dropped 
lower. Between two hills of an elevated peninsula 
Port Moresby appeared. The little town looked 
clean and fresh in the pale light. The reservoir 
for holding rain water was plainly visible because 
of its corrugated sheet-metal cap of seemingly 
huge dimensions. 

Jimmy brought the seaplane into the harbor, 
and almost the entire white population came down 
to welcome the visitors. A cable from Darwin had 
announced the impending arrival. A cousin of 
the elder scientist was amazed and delighted that 
Nancy should be in the party. She insisted that 
Nancy stay with her while Peter and the men 
went off on their explorations. 

As the party climbed the hill to reach a little 
bungalow, the men talked business. While they 
drank tea and ate biscuits, Peter and Nancy 
learned that Port Moresby was headquarters for 
shipments of copra, rubber, copper, gold, trepang, 
a sea worm liked by the Chinese, pearls, and 
trochus shell. 

Peter went on one visit with the men to Kikori, 
a government station on the Kikori River about 



184 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


thirty miles inland. He reported to Nancy that he 
had never seen quite so much mangrove nor so 
many sago-palm swamps. Sago, he explained, was 
the staff of life for most of the natives, for it took 
the place of bread. 

All the native houses had huge entrances from 
floor to ridgepole. When a new house was built, 
a sort of temporary, thatched ‘‘steeple” was added 
for good luck. Mostly women and children lived 
in the houses. The young men lived in club¬ 
houses or long houses called dubu houses. Some¬ 
times the married men went to live temporarily 
in the dubu houses, too, but no woman was ever 
allowed to enter them. 

The women were nearly always busy, for they 
washed the starch out of the sago palm after the 
men had pounded the wood to a pulp. They cared 
for the children and did the simple cooking and 
gardening. 

Money used by the inland natives was shell cut 
in the form of armlets or bracelets two or three 
inches wide. Dog and wallaby teeth and disks of 
pearl were also used as a medium of exchange. 
(Such dogs as Peter had seen were miserable curs 
who howled like wolves but never barked.) In 
most cases, Peter learned, exchange of goods did 
not involve money. Brides were purchased with 
pigs or other goods. 

Boys of Peter’s age wore no clothes at all. The 
men wore aprons of tapa cloth. Tapa cloth, as 
Peter and Nancy learned, was not easily made. It 



HEAD-HUNTERS AND TREE-DWELLERS 


185 


was really a tremendous amount of work to pound 
a piece of the bark of the paper-mulberry tree into 
the thinness of cloth. The women wore grass 
skirts, or shredded-leaf skirts. Young girls 
allowed their hair to grow; married women cut 
theirs. Men shaved themselves by pulling out 
their beards. 

Peter told of jungle gardens of sugar cane, coco¬ 
nuts, sweet potatoes, breadfruit, and tobacco he 
had visited. Diet was varied by bush pig, casso¬ 
wary, crocodile, and snake meat, with shrimps or 
crabs from the sea. 

One trip to the interior even Peter did not make. 
It was from Jimmy that Peter and Nancy learned 
of the head-hunters who offered dried specimens 
of heads stuffed with clay in exchange for cigar¬ 
ette tins and razor blades. Jimmy had been most 
interested in the pygmies, whose dwellings were 
built like huge birdhouses in the jungle. Usually 
the central support was a banyan tree with wide- 
spreading roots and branches. 

Uncle Lee brought back with him rare carved 
drums and shields, strange ornamental wooden 
combs, stone axes with which the natives were able 
to build dugout canoes, cigarette holders with 
great, pipelike handles, wooden pillows, a priceless 
headdress of bird-of-paradise feathers, and a 
pressed pink lotus. He had passed an island called 
Blup Blup on which a volcano was erupting, but 
he had not brought any samples of lava, he de¬ 
clared. 



THREE ISLANDS OF THE SEA 


I WOULDN’T mind a good cup of Java coffee,” 
Uncle Lee observed as he attempted to stretch 
his long legs in the crowded plane. 

Peter and Nancy were too excited to think of 
food. Back in Papua they had been promised 
many delights, once they reached Java. They had 
a picture of Java in their minds. Sugar cane in 
wide fields, with sugar refineries close by! Checker¬ 
boards of rice fields in the lowlands or climbing 
the terraces of pleasant hillsides! Huge piles of 
cassava roots in the markets, enough to make 
tapioca pudding for the whole world! Cinchona 
plantations from which quinine might ease all the 
malarial fevers of the East! Rubber and coffee 
and tea plantations! Temples and volcanoes and 
olive-skinned people in bright sarongs , but no naked 
warriors or head-hunters! 

“Batavia!” Jimmy shouted. “We’re here! But 
we’ll have to land in a pouring rain. Anvbody 
mind?” 

Of course no one minded, and Jimmy brought 
down the seaplane at Tanjong Priok Harbor, just 
twenty minutes by train from Batavia. Although 
Batavia was the original town and very pic¬ 
turesque, Uncle Lee decided to make his head¬ 
quarters in Weltevreden, the newer, modern 
section of Batavia, which was famous for its broad 


186 


THREE ISLANDS OF THE SEA 


187 



Ewing Galloway 

A STREET SCENE IN BATAVIA 


Koningsplein and other parks. Weltevreden, Uncle 
Lee said, meant “well content” 

To delight the children Uncle Lee ordered a 
sado for each of his passengers. The sado, a two¬ 
wheeled cart in which the rider sits back to back 
with the driver, proved to be quite as comfortable 
as the taxis rushing along the streets. 

The old city, the children observed, had many 
fine stone buildings along with its cluttered, 
crowded Chinese quarter. The streets were well 
paved, and there were bicycles, automobiles, taxis, 
and street cars moving along with no apparent 
rhyme or reason. A native vender selling cool 






188 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

TAXIS IN JAVA HAVE THREE WHEELS 

drinks carried his whole outfit with him and set it 
down on a corner from time to time. 

In Weltevreden there were fine homes and wide, 
tree-lined boulevards. The hotel was altogether 
modern. It was in this hotel that Jimmy and the 
MacLarens first saw a rijst tafel, or rice table. 
It was much more than its name implied. There 
were, in fact, two tables wheeled into the suite, 
used as serving wagons, laden with twenty or 
more dishes beside the rice. There were egg dishes 
and meat dishes and condiments of all kinds. Each 



THREE ISLANDS OF THE SEA 


189 


dish seemed more delicious than the last, and the 
MacLarens and Jimmy chose this and that and the 
other thing until they felt as though they had 
forgotten their normal capacities. All those un¬ 
usual dishes were too tempting to resist. 

The next morning at breakfast, Jimmy 
announced, “Seaplane’s ready for a hop-off to 
Surabaya. One thing about Surabaya, it can ac¬ 
commodate more ships for repairs than any other 
port on the islands. It’s the second largest city 
in Java, with Batavia first, of course, and Sema- 
rang third. Hope we have time to see the colorful 
market.” 

The seaplane made good time, skimming up over 
the river mouth of Surabaya, past the dry docks 
where ships were being repaired, to the great 
harbor wharves. The Tengger Mountains in the 
distance seemed piled against the sky in bluish 
masses. Two volcanic peaks rose high above the 
others. 

The city of Surabaya was as modern as Batavia, 
with its automobiles, its radio shops, its department 
stores, and its fine residences. Uncle Lee wanted 
to visit the Tengger volcano, and see the active 
crater known as the Bromo, but he would not take 
Nancy. He organized a little excursion with 
Peter and Jimmy, leaving Nancy in the care of 
the Dutch hotel-keeper’s wife. 

Afterward Peter reported that it hadn’t been 
as difficult as Uncle Lee had imagined such a trip 
would be. 



190 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



James Sawders 

GIRLS DOING BATIK WORK 

The crater had been fiery enough, all right, as 
he stared down at the pit, he said, and the fumes 
had been sulphurous and scorching. He had been 
surprised at the amount of vegetation on the moun¬ 
tain sides, but Jimmy declared that the volcanic 
ash made very rich soil. 

Nancy’s experience was not quite so venture¬ 
some as the boys’, but every bit as interesting. 
She had chosen what she called a batik expedition. 
Although the center of the trade was in Surakarta 
and Jokyakarta, the Dutch woman took Nancy to 
a little factory close by. The women worked out- 



THREE ISLANDS OF THE SEA 


191 


doors with a few vats of dye, some pots of wax, and 
little bamboo frames on which they hung the cloth 
while they worked. Whenever the sun became hot 
enough to melt the wax, the women moved farther 
under the trees. 

Nancy watched a girl no older than herself 
sketch a design on cloth with wax from a tiny cup. 
The cloth was then placed in the vat of dye, and 
the part not covered by the wax absorbed the color. 
The wax was then removed, and the process was 
repeated until the design was finished. The little 
girl fascinated Nancy, for she was a shy little 
thing with olive skin, soft brown eyes, straight 
black hair, and pretty features. She wore a bril¬ 
liant red sarong and a bright little jacket trimmed 
with gold braid. 

Another girl had just received her cloth from 
the dye vat and was removing the wax. This 
process, it seemed, had to be carried out several 
times with a different color each time, until the 
proper dyes had stained the proper places. To 
finish a piece of batik might take weeks, and 
it might take months. 

Some pieces of batik were so valuable that they 
were used only by royalty and court dancers. Often 
they were made in the workshops of a sultan's 
palace. 

From the batik factory Nancy went with the 
Dutch woman to hear a gamelan orchestra. The 
musicians sat on mats under the trees, and crowds 
gathered around. The instruments were crude 



192 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


fiddles, bells, gongs, and drums. The most promi¬ 
nent instrument was a sort of xylophone made of 
bamboo which the player struck with little wooden 
mallets. Nancy really liked the weird music that 
sometimes grew loud and warlike. The Dutch 
woman told her of the origin of the gamelan. The 
god Batara Goeroe had created it in heaven to 
while away the hours. So lovely was the music 
that the gods and goddesses danced to it. 

“If you have not seen the wayang or native 
dances,” said the Dutch woman, “you have not 
seen Java.” 

Accordingly Nancy attended a performance and 
was confused and amazed rather than delighted. 
The actors were boy impersonators in gorgeous 
Javanese costumes, with gold headdresses, rich 
sarongs, and jewels. One play seemed to tell the 
story of a legendary prince and a king of devils. 

Nancy learned that there were three different 
kinds of drama or dance in Java. The wayang 
koelit was a kind of shadow play which had its 
origin in ancient ancestor worship. The figures 
for the play were cut out of a stiff buffalo hide 
and projected upon a screen by a light from be¬ 
hind. The shadows of the figures on the screen 
represented the spirits of the departed. The 
wayang wong with its live actors was the dance 
Nancy saw. The wayang kayoe was the dance 
most popular among the true natives of Java. It 
was performed with wooden puppets, beautifully 
carved and painted by Javanese craftsmen. 




THREE ISLANDS OF THE SEA 


193 



Ewing Galloway 

A JAVANESE BULLOCK CART 

Along the highway returning to town, Nancy 
enjoyed watching the peddlers. Everything from 
needles and pins to pots and pans and fish and fowl 
were carried along in bamboo baskets slung over 
the peddlers’ shoulders. 

Later when Nancy visited a kampong, or village, 
she saw what appeared to be large birdcages 
propped three or four feet above the ground. She 
was curious about them. Her ‘ companion ex¬ 
plained that they were not birdcages at all, but 
sheep pens: At night the sheep were huddled to¬ 
gether inside these pens to protect them from 
prowlers and bad weather. 




194 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


Around the pens were the homes, little houses 
with walls of woven bamboo and roofs of red tiles 
made by the natives, or thatched with leaves from 
the nipa palm. 

To visit the sugar-cane region, the MacLarens 
took a train going westward from Surabaya. 
Jimmy did not make this trip but spent the time 
overhauling his plane. 

The country west of Surabaya was flat, although 
to the south rose volcanic ridges. On this flat land 
there were, so Uncle Lee declared, 480,000 acres 
of sugar cane. Over 170 mills took care of the 
crop. Java’s production of sugar, the MacLarens 
learned, was a fifth of the world's supply. 

The train was very comfortable. Looking out 
the windows onto the country roads, the children 
saw many two-wheeled bullock carts. These carts 
had low roofs and sides of woven bamboo, and 
invariably they were laden with stalks of sugar 
cane for the mills. Every one of the carts had a 
yoke with a tall stick which stuck up in the air and 
was painted in designs intended to keep evil spirits 
away. 

Then the MacLarens changed to a branch train, 
and from this train to a horse-drawn cart that set 
them down before the famous temple known as 
Boro Budur. For six hundred years it had been 
buried in jungle vegetation. It was uncovered re¬ 
cently and was found to be the largest Buddhist 
temple in the world. The bottom platform was 
five hundred feet square. 





THREE ISLANDS OF THE SEA 


195 



Philip D. Gendreau 

BORO BUDUR TEMPLE 


In front of the temple a very old man in native 
costume used a paper umbrella for a sunshade. 
He pointed out many strange carvings on the lit¬ 
tle blocks that made up the strangely beautiful 
building. These carvings told the story of Java’s 
struggles and triumphs. The old guard did not 
need to point out to Peter and Nancy the beauty 
of the many galleries nor the terraces of delicate 
stone. Nor did he need to call their attention to 
the lovely setting on top of a hill. A building 
wasn’t, after all, merely a building, he told the 
visitors. The dreams and ideals of the builders 
lived within. Peter and Nancy felt as though they 









196 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



James Saivdei's 

HARVESTING RICE 

must be seeing the rare and underlying ideal of 
ancient Java in that great temple. 

Uncle Lee informed his charges that the 
Javanese were mostly Mohammedan. 

On hillsides in the country round about, farm¬ 
ers were busy in the rice fields. Some were stand¬ 
ing knee-deep in mud, transplanting seedlings 
from nursery beds. Not far away women were 
harvesting rice by clipping off the ripened heads 
one at a time. Planting and harvesting were car¬ 
ried on at the same time. 

It was fun to wander around on foot. The 
children met a coffee-picker resting beside his 




THREE ISLANDS OF THE SEA 


197 


basket of berries. Uncle Lee's cup of Java was 
assured. In a forest men were shaving off small 
areas of bark from rubber trees. 

“Such men are called tappers," Uncle Lee ex¬ 
plained. “The latex flows from the cut areas into 
small cups. Later, it is manufactured into rubber 
galoshes and automobile tires." 

Driving and tramping were fun, but the Mac- 
Laren party left Java the way it had come, in 
Jimmy Dustin's seaplane. 

They decided to make a call in Sumatra, the 
spice land of early explorers. It was a lush land on 
the equator, where sunshine, rain, and lava soil 
spelled fertility. 

Jimmy brought his seaplane down at Padang on 
the west coast, and here the party remained several 
days. The sun shone brightly all the time, except 
during the rainy afternoon hours. Peter declared 
he had never before seen so many bananas, for they 
grew luxuriantly on the level plantations near 
the town. 

Two thousand feet up and some distance from 
Padang was Padang Pandjang, a rich suburb 
where houses of the wealthy were built of teak- 
wood. And at Fort de Kock, a town three thou¬ 
sand feet above sea level and surrounded by an 
open prairie, the MacLarens found a delightful 
welcome. Here the Dutch had built a sanitarium 
for their soldiers and sailors. All about were fruit 
orchards and rice fields, and there was an air of 
prosperity everywhere. 



198 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


“The people of Sumatra are mostly Malayan, 
but there are also Chinese, Hindus, and Arabs,” 
Uncle Lee declared as he rode back to Padang 
with Peter and Nancy in an automobile driven by a 
Chinese lad. “However, they have customs of their 
own. Often several families live in one of the 
high, pointed houses. The costumes are often 
elaborate, too, with bright sarongs and jackets 
gaudy with gold and silver braid. And life is 
exciting, for the island is always in danger of 
volcanic eruptions. But it's a rich and abundant 
life at that.” 

On their way down the MacLarens stopped to 
look at a fine growth of pepper. The red berries, the 
children knew, would turn black when they dried. 
The Chinese boy remarked that it was a most im¬ 
portant export and he did not see how foreigners 
could use so much pepper. Or so many bananas! 

From the hot, wet island of Sumatra, the sea¬ 
plane flew to the hot, wet island of Borneo, landing 
at Banjermasin, a town in the southern part of 
Dutch Borneo. 

“A country of forests!” Jimmy cried. “Every¬ 
thing from teakwood and rubber trees to camphor 
trees and sago palms and bamboo. Some of the 
rich, wooded mountains in the interior have never 
been climbed.” 

Several gobongs , or native canoes, came out to 
view the seaplane. 

“Tourists are not so common here,” Uncle Lee 
remarked. “Even in the towns of Sandakan and 



THREE ISLANDS OF THE SEA 


199 


Brunei in the British part of Borneo, no one visits 
very much except traders or circus men in search 
of elephants or rhinos—or orangutans. The only 
place where the orangutan may be found is in 
Borneo or Sumatra.” 

“No orangutans for me, thank you,” Nancy 
spoke up. 

“Well, you can get gold here in Borneo,” Jimmy 
offered. “Perhaps you’d like a Borneo diamond. 
We have also, Madam, coal, petroleum, coconuts, 
rattan, wax, and birds’ nests. Would Madam like 
a little bird’s-nest soup?” 

“No, thanks,” Nancy laughed. “I’ll take some 
turkey and some Christmas pudding.” 



A LAND OF MANY PEOPLES 


P ETER and Nancy were wildly excited when 
Jimmy Dustin informed them that he was 
taking them to the Philippine Islands. The 
southernmost island in the Philippines was only 
thirty miles from the island of Borneo. The 
northernmost island, he said, was four hundred 
miles east of China and a hundred miles from 
Japan, which set the location very well. Jimmy 
went on to say that he thought the weather would 
be pleasant, as December, January, and February 
were the cool months. He added that more than 
twelve million people lived on the islands. 

“A good many Americans, I suppose,” Nancy 
guessed, thinking of the Spanish-American War. 

“You’re thinking of certain parts of Manila,” 
Jimmy declared. “Remember that the Philippines 
consist of 7,083 islands with thirty principal 
islands, eleven of which cover more than a thou¬ 
sand square miles. Of course, the island in which 
we are most interested is Luzon, on which Manila 
is located.” 

“Where did they get the name, the Philippines?” 
Nancy interrupted Jimmy’s account. 

“The name was changed to the Philippines in 
honor of Philip II of Spain, son of Charles V,” 
Uncle Lee explained. “The Spaniards won the 
islands by right of discovery. They held them until 


200 


A LAND OF MANY PEOPLES 


201 



Kaufman & Fabry 

A MALAY BOY WITH CARABAO 

1898. At the close of the Spanish-American War, 
they transferred them to us—upon payment of 
twenty million dollars. 

“There are a number of types of people in the 
Islands. First, there are the Negritos, for the 
most part uncivilized, living in the mountainous 
parts of Luzon, Panay, and Mindanao. They seldom 
build houses other than a little wall with a roof of 
brush to keep off rain and wind; they rarely wear 
clothes; they live on the meat of small animals and 
upon roots, and they are among the smallest people 
on earth. 




202 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


“Another type is the Malayan who also lives 
in the mountains of northern Luzon. These peo¬ 
ple originally came from Sumatra, Borneo, and 
Celebes. They are known as the Igorots and 
Ifugaos. In the Benguet mountains they had been 
mining gold and building the famous rice terraces 
long before white men found them. Now many of 
the younger generation are attending the govern¬ 
ment schools. Some of the tribes live in villages 
and are agriculturists, raising rice, cotton, to¬ 
bacco, maize, and sweet potatoes, the latter being 
their principal food. 

“A third type of people in the Islands is the 
Christian Malay, constituting the large group 
known as the Filipino. These people are the group 
in whose hands the government of the Philippines 
rests today. 

“In Mindanao and Jolo live the Mohammedan 
people called the Moros. When the United States 
took over the Islands, one of the chief difficulties 
was to keep the Moros from molesting other tribes. 
Now they have their schools and are law-abiding.” 

In the freshness of early morning the three 
MacLarens were landed in the harbor and soon 
found themselves on the main street of Jolo, the 
capital of the Sulu Archipelago. 

“Ho-lo!” Peter exclaimed. “From the way it's 
spelled, I thought it was pronounced Jo-lo.” 

“It looks like an interesting town, Peter.” 
Nancy took off her pith helmet and looked up the 
wide street ahead, a street shaded by acacia trees 



A LAND OF MANY PEOPLES 


203 



Kaufman dc Fabry 

A NATIVE MARKET 

so big that their branches entwined overhead to 
make a wide shady lane. 

Uncle Lee went forward and exchanged cordial 
greetings with Mr. William Chalmers, an Ameri¬ 
can friend of years’ standing, who had business 
interests in the islands. 

Mr. Chalmers escorted the MacLarens up the 
street to his pleasant two-story house. A wide- 
roofed balcony jutted over the sidewalk. There 
were two Filipino servants, a man and his wife, 
and a Chinese cook. The cook prepared a delicious 
luncheon, which was really breakfast for the 
MacLarens. 




204 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


After lunch they all had a siesta, and then about 
four o’clock in the afternoon Mr. Chalmers took 
the party on a tour of the town. Peter strode ahead 
with his host, while Nancy followed with Uncle 
Lee, who pointed out the fact that most of the 
two-story houses were combined homes and busi¬ 
ness places. The people, Americans, Filipinos, and 
Chinese, lived in the upper stories, while the lower 
stories were given over to shops and warehouses. 

At Nancy’s cries of delight when she saw the 
houses built out over the sea, Mr. Chalmers turned 
about, his eyes twinkling. 

“Very conveniently built houses,” he remarked. 
“You see, Nancy, when the tide rises, it carries the 
refuse of the lower floor away.” 

“Very sanitary,” Peter agreed, but Nancy 
sniffed in disdain. 

The MacLarens gazed a long time at the city 
wall, built by the Spanish as a defense against 
the Moro pirates. It was about eight feet high 
with peepholes through which guns might have 
been thrust in the long ago. 

“Modern cannon would make short work of that 
wall,” Peter decided. “The pirates, with their 
lances and their bows and arrows, certainly 
couldn’t do much damage, unless they climbed up 
over the wall.” 

“For years,” Mr. Chalmers explained, “the 
mortar on the top of that wall has been filled with 
broken glass, so that the pirates would cut their 
fingers if they attempted to scale the wall. Condi- 



A LAND OF MANY PEOPLES 


205 


tions are different today. The Filipino police keep 
good order.” 

Next morning Mr. Chalmers got out his car to 
take his friends for a drive into the country. 
Through a gate in the pirate wall, as Peter called 
it, the car sped out onto a fine macadam road. 

The country was rich and beautiful. Peter and 
Nancy had seen papaya trees before, with their big, 
ragged leaves, the fruit growing out of the bark 
under the leaves. But to behold over a hundred 
papaya trees with their golden yellow fruit was 
truly amazing. Some of the papayas were almost 
as large as a Minnesota Hubbard squash, while 
others were no larger than a walnut. Their meat 
was also a golden yellow. Durians, towering sky¬ 
ward before flaunting their lovely green branches, 
bore fruit that looked, so Nancy observed, like a 
green porcupine. 

“We’ve seen the durian before,” Peter said, “but 
we never felt hungry enough to tackle so big a 
fruit.” 

“Suppose you tackle one right now,” Mr. 
Chalmers suggested. 

He stopped the car on the country road along 
which many of the islanders were taking, their 
produce to market. To Peter and Nancy their cos¬ 
tumes looked East Indian, for the men generally 
wore turbans, although they were flatter and 
usually of a darker color than those worn by the 
East Indian. Some wore colorful shirts with high 
collars, and tight trousers, trimmed with brass 



206 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


buttons. The women usually wore long-sleeved 
jackets and baggy, divided skirts. The children 
wore few clothes; but when they wore garments, 
they were of gay colors, red or purple, or parrot 
green. All the passing natives turned to look at 
the American children in the car, but it was prob¬ 
ably due to the fact, so Uncle Lee declared, that the 
MacLaren children stared so hard at them. It 
seemed strange to Peter and Nancy to see a num¬ 
ber of modern trucks and automobiles passing by 
on their way to Jolo. 

Mr. Chalmers had secured his durian and was 
cutting it open on the grass by the roadside with 
a sharp pocketknife. Peter and Nancy got out of 
the car and stood looking down at the strange fruit 
on the grass. Nancy put her handkerchief to her 
nose as a very disagreeable odor filled her nostrils, 
but she was too curious to move away. She blinked 
over her handkerchief at the white pulp, in which 
a dozen or more light brown seeds, the size of eggs, 
lay embedded. Mr. Chalmers handed Nancy one 
of these seeds. 

“You eat the pulp,” he instructed her. “Try it. 
IPs as good as bananas.” 

He was right. The durian was good. 

Uncle Lee pointed out a teak forest as the car 
started again, and he called attention to the well- 
tended trees and to the fine condition of the hemp 
and the rice. 

“Those little brown men, wearing turbans and 
plowing with carabaos, or water buffaloes, are 




awing wuuowuy 


A NATIVE BOY IN HOLIDAY DRESS 


208 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


Moros,” Mr. Chalmers explained, and added, 
“Some of their ancestors were probably pirates!” 

The road led closer to the sea. Now their host 
pointed out some Bajaus, or sea gypsies. He said 
they lived all their lives in tiny huts built on stilts 
above the water, or in crowded boats. To live on 
land made them ill, they believed. 

“We are so near the ports of Jolo that we ought 
to see the pearl fleets come in,” said Uncle Lee. 
“There will be other vessels loaded with fish, tre- 
pang, and sea turtles.” 

“Aren’t the sea turtles valuable for their shells?” 
asked Nancy. “I should like to have some combs 
and a tray to take home.” 

“It’s a wonder you’re not asking for a pearl,” 
said Peter. 

The MacLarens had noticed several schoolhouses 
where Filipino children were playing at recess 
time. Mr. Chalmers told them that the native 
children were being taught to read and speak 
English. Nancy wished that she might visit a 
school, but Peter and Mr. Chalmers laughed at her. 

A fine coconut plantation came into view. But 
Uncle Lee said the finest coconut trees were to be 
seen on the avenue leading from the town to the 
barracks at Asturias. 

Mr. Chalmers stopped to speak to an old soldier 
and two women with very dark complexions. Their 
hair was black, and their big, dark brown eyes 
sparkled with animation. They smiled at Peter 
and Nancy. Peter’s jaw dropped open and re- 



A LAND OF MANY PEOPLES 


209 



Ewing Galloway 

MORO BOYS IN SCHOOL 

mained relaxed so long that Nancy poked him, 
whispering, “Peter, remember your manners!” 

What had caused so much consternation was the 
fact that the women had black teeth and black 
gums. They offered the children some of the betel 
nuts they were chewing, and the children accepted 
the nuts politely. The taste was unpleasant, and 
Peter and Nancy had no wish to blacken their own 
teeth and gums by chewing betel nuts as a habit. 

That evening at dinner Peter asked, “And where 
do we go from here? It will have to be mighty 
interesting to beat this.” 

“Zamboanga,” Uncle Lee replied. “Then Davao! 
From Davao we’ll take an inter-island boat and 
eventually land in Manila.” 












210 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


“You’ll like Zamboanga.” Mr. Chalmers spoke 
up. “It’s one of the most beautiful little cities in 
the tropics. It has grown amazingly in the past 
few years. Even though it’s only three hundred 
miles from the equator, there’s always a nice 
breeze blowing. The island of Mindanao, on which 
the town is located, is worth exploring. Wish I 
were going along.” 

The little passenger steamer that plowed through 
a rough sea to Zamboanga was crowded with pros¬ 
perous looking merchants, many with their fami¬ 
lies, homeward bound. An American friend, whom 
Uncle Lee had met there before, invited the Mac- 
Larens to visit him. 

Even before they landed, Peter and Nancy saw 
the coconut forest in which the town had been 
built. Later, as they walked up a well-kept street, 
they listened to the rustling of the broad coconut 
leaves in a gentle breeze such as Mr. Chalmers had 
predicted. 

Uncle Lee’s friend pointed out with prideful 
gestures the military-post park, the plazas with 
their fountains and flower gardens, and, best of 
all, a canal of purest, sparkling water flowing right 
through the post like a well-behaved river. 

Where did the water come from, Peter and 
Nancy both demanded to know. Uncle Lee said 
that he would show them the source of the wonder¬ 
ful water in the morning. 

“Bathing suits!” was the order next morning. 
“Riding togs and bathing suits!” 




A LAND OF MANY PEOPLES 


211 



Lionel Green 

AN AVENUE OF COCONUT TREES 

After a long, delightful ride up mountain trails, 
Uncle Lee directed the party toward a fern- 
bordered swimming pool. A swimming pool was 















212 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


the last thing Peter and Nancy expected to find 
on a mountainside. 

Looking up, they saw that the pool was fed by a 
foaming, splashing mountain torrent of purest 
water—water like that in the canal that flowed 
through the army post. 

Uncle Lee was soon swimming out to a raft, 
towing Peter and Nancy with him. In a few 
minutes they were surrounded by other visitors 
from Zamboanga. 

Peter learned from one of the boys that the water 
from the pool ran a hydroelectric plant. Thus the 
mountain torrent provided electricity for Zam¬ 
boanga. It was from this same boy that Peter later 
heard tales of birds and animals of that region. 
He told Nancy of white parrots with tufted crests, 
of bright red parrots with green wings, of whis¬ 
tling birds, of golden brown doves, of white snipes, 
and lovely white herons, and he mentioned wild 
boar and deer, monkeys and wild cattle. 

At dinner Uncle Lee and his friend chatted of 
forests rich in teak, ebony, and Philippine ma¬ 
hogany. They spoke of pasture lands with their 
horses, cows, and carabaos. 

But what interested Nancy most was the talk 
about the Moros. What were the natives like who 
lived in their own villages? She would find out; 



THE MOROS AND BAGOBOS AT HOME 


“^V7" OU may visit the Moros in their native vil- 

JL lages,” Uncle Lee promised Nancy as they 
strolled along a shady street in Zamboanga. “A 
good many of these people you are seeing on the 
street are Moros, of course.” 

The MacLarens were very close to some of the 
Moro settlements, and early next morning, while 
the mist lay like white chiffon over the rich land, 
they drove along the coast. 

"Just a few bales of hay floating around on the 
water !” Peter exclaimed in disappointment in 
answer to Uncle Lee’s proud gesture. 

But the floating haystacks, on closer inspection, 
proved to be the roofs of huts built upon posts in 
the water. Beneath these primitive houses, boats 
floated at anchor. Out on the sea native fishermen 
worked to bring in their daily catch. 

Uncle Lee turned the car into a Moro village on 
dry land. 

“Their houses are elevated, too!” Nancy ex¬ 
claimed in amazement. “Why?” 

“Mostly because their ancestors built them that 
way,” Uncle Lee guessed. “The same type of archi¬ 
tecture serves for land and sea.” 

The MacLarens wandered along a neat street 
in the village. They were warmly welcomed by 
the natives. Many of the older women had black, 


213 


214 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



HUTS BUILT OVER THE WATER 


sawlike teeth that had been filed in their youth. 
The younger women, their mouths black from the 
juice of the betel nuts, showed well-formed teeth 
when they smiled. The naked children flashed 
white-toothed smiles at the guests. There was a 
general air of gaiety about the village. The women 
all wore short, loose clothes of the brightest colors. 
The men were just as colorful. Invariably their 
turbans were crimson, and their trousers were 
of gorgeous shades. Most of the shirts were baggy, 
and a few fastened up to the neck. 



THE MOROS AND BAGOBOS AT HOME 


215 


“Oh, I do wish I could see the inside of one of 
the houses.” Nancy looked beseechingly at Uncle 
Lee. 

Uncle Lee spoke to an important-looking old 
man whom he called a dato. He explained that a 
dato was the ruler of a single tribe, while a sultan 
ruled all the tribes in his territory. The sultans, 
before the Americans came, had the power of life 
and death over their subjects. They could likewise 
seize such property as they fancied, real or per¬ 
sonal. Now all this was changed. The dato with 
whom Uncle Lee visited seemed like any fatherly 
old man the MacLarens might have known except 
for his strange, rich costume and his dark color. 

Uncle Lee explained that they would like to look 
inside the houses. Nancy chose a yellow thatched 
house with a substantial notched log at the en¬ 
trance. Peter chose one with a light, bamboo lad¬ 
der, frail-looking but strong. 

It was not easy to climb the notched log. There 
were no limber toes with which to grip, and modern 
shoes were slippery as to soles. The ground seemed 
very far below. Nancy started to back down, but 
the Moro children laughed behind their hands, and 
Uncle Lee urged, “Go on up!” 

Nancy dared not look back or down. She 
scrambled to the wide veranda at the top of the 
notched log and entered a room about twenty feet 
square. The floor, she noticed, was made of bamboo 
poles, covered with grass mats. There was no 
furniture unless the mats could be called furniture. 



216 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


Later the MacLarens had rice, served in coconut 
shells, and bananas and nuts. The rice was cooked 
outdoors, and the food was served outdoors. 

The dato explained that the children all went to 
school and that their teachers were Mohammedans. 

“Wait until I tell the fellows back home about 
these houses,” Peter exclaimed. 

All along the coast and far up on the land were 
hundreds of yellow and gray thatched houses on 
stilts, built under tall coconut trees. Beneath every 
house there was some sort of livestock, everything 
from a few scratching chickens to a litter of pigs, 
or a lowing carabao. Most of the men supported 
their families by farming and fishing. 

“And never did I see so much regular neigh¬ 
boring!” added Peter. 

“Good observation, Peter,” Uncle Lee agreed. 
“The Moro seldom builds upon one of the broad 
inland rivers. He prefers to live near the sea where 
he can enjoy companionship. Of course some of 
the Moros are employed in the sugar centrals.” 

“Sugar centrals! That’s a new one!” Peter ex¬ 
claimed. “Just what might a sugar central be, 
may I ask?” 

“A sugar central,” Uncle Lee explained, “is a 
factory to which sugar cane is shipped to extract 
juice and refine it for shipment as crude sugar. 
You’ve often seen fields of sugar cane.” 

“Surely. They look something like cornfields,” 
Peter volunteered, “except that sugar cane hasn’t 
any ears.” 



THE MOROS AND BAGOBOS AT HOME 


217 


“Negros is the best place on earth for sugar 
cane,” Uncle Lee said. “A large per cent of the 
world’s sugar is exported from Negros. The world’s 
sugar bowl! It has a perfect climate for sugar— 
plenty of rain for growing weather, followed by 
a long, dry season to sweeten the juice.” 

“Sun-cooked!” Nancy observed dryly. “Peter, 
they’re beginning to dress up for us. Not a shoe 
nor a sock, but notice the purple jacket and the red, 
yellow, and blue striped trousers over there. And 
please notice the fancy, short swords in the belts. 
Lovely silk belts, too!” 

“I have been urged to bring you to the dato’s 
house,” Uncle Lee put in. 

“Wonder if we’d know a dato’s house if we saw 
it,” Peter mused. 

But the moment they saw a house on the main 
street bigger than any of the others, they guessed 
that it was the home of the dato. Moreover, the 
gentleman who sat beneath the palms was so 
gorgeously costumed that the children failed at 
first to recognize him as the kindly old gentleman 
who had been visiting with Uncle Lee. His red 
turban was of silk, and jeweled, his black jacket 
was of the finest, heaviest satin, and his full 
trousers of brocaded silk were topped by a rich 
green sash through which was thrust a kris, not a 
small sword such as the other Moros wore, but a 
blade fully two feet long. His feet were bare, and 
Peter and Nancy began to wish that they were 
barefoot, too, for the sun was hot and the air humid. 




218 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



A NATIVE VILLAGE ON THE COAST 

Everyone squatted on the floor in the dato’s house 
to partake of refreshment and to listen to the dato’s 
account of the tribes in the interior of Mindanao 
who were not so civilized as his tribe and who were 
pagans instead of Christians. 

It seemed that there were inhabitants of Bukid- 
non who lived in trees and shied from strangers. 
Near the source of the Agusan River the Mandayas 
still used bows and arrows and carried shields and 
curved fighting knives. The dato said that among 
these pagans there was one very fine tribe, the 
Manobos on Davao Gulf. These people, he declared, 





THE MOROS AND BAGOBOS AT HOME 


219 


were skillful weavers and metal workers and took 
kindly to modern schools. 

“That’s where we’re bound for next,” Peter ex¬ 
claimed. “Davao! And it sounds good to me.” 

Returning to Zamboanga, the MacLarens took 
passage on another inter-island passenger boat. 
They viewed many little ports on the south coast 
of Mindanao before sailing up Davao Bay to Davao. 
Uncle Lee said they were near the southeastern 
end of the island. 

For some time Peter and Nancy had been stand¬ 
ing at the rail watching the mountains. One moun¬ 
tain particularly held their interest, a mountain 
down whose sides vapor rolled in clouds. Later, 
from the hotel window, the clouds looked as though 
they were on fire in the twilight. The volcano did 
not seem quite extinct to Peter and Nancy, as 
Uncle Lee had said it was. 

The town itself, which Uncle Lee said had a 
population of about ten thousand people, mostly 
Japanese and Chinese, looked like a green garden 
with an overpowering mountain frowning on it. 

“Mount Apo,” Uncle Lee stated, “is the highest 
peak in the Philippines—9,610 feet, to be exact. 
There are some very old men who remember when 
it was an active volcano.” 

“Wish we could climb it.” Nancy looked out 
wistfully at the lofty peak that rose high above its 
neighbors to look down on the surrounding plains. 

“You wouldn’t find it much different from the 
mountain life above Zamboanga that you’ve 



220 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

WEAVING MATS OF HEMP 


already seen/’ Uncle Lee informed Nancy. “You’d 
see the same big pigeons, white parrots, and bril¬ 
liant tropical birds. Wild hogs and deer are com¬ 
mon, and monkeys chatter down at you from the 
tree tops. On the jungle slopes dwell the Bagobos, a 
law-abiding tribe fond of jewelry and fond of 
bright colors. Let’s see something of the town 
before dinner. It will soon be dark.” 

The main section, with its public buildings, its 
schools, and its many churches, looked much like 
any other tropical town, except that it seemed to 






THE MOROS AND BAGOBOS AT HOME 


221 



Ewing Galloway 

COMBING HEMP BEFORE DRYING 

tell its visitors that it was the chief hemp-raising 
center in the Philippines. The shops might show 
daggers and spears made from metal fashioned 
by the Mandayas and Bagobos, but the really 
prominent product was hemp, in sailcloth, rope, 
mats, hats, and baskets. However, most of the 
hemp Peter and Nancy saw was not in its manu¬ 
factured state. The raw material was being 
shipped to Europe, America, and Japan to be made 
into rope and twine. On the docks everywhere 
were thousands of bales of the golden stuff. 





222 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


“Looks like coarse dolls’ hair/’ Nancy remarked. 

In the morning Uncle Lee suggested a trip to an 
abaca plantation. The MacLarens were strolling 
along the palm-lined street with its rows of neat, 
thatched cottages. Such lovely palms, thought 
Nancy, some with clusters of coconuts, and some 
with round betel nuts of green and yellow. Orchids 
hung in the branches of trees, and bright tropical 
flowers ran riot over walls. It was hard to think of 
anything so practical as abaca. 

“Abaca!” Peter strutted a little. “Just another 
name for Manila hemp. One of the men at the 
hotel said it was the best and strongest hemp in 
the world—much better than the sisal hemp that 
grows in Mexico.” 

At the abaca plantation a Filipino manager took 
the three MacLarens about. The abaca plants re¬ 
sembled banana plants and, according to botanists, 
were related to them. From a center core a foot in 
diameter would spring a bunch of slender leaves, 
ten to fifteen feet long. Each leaf had a spinelike 
point. 

“After the leaves are cut off, fresh shoots will 
spring up around the base of the plant,” the over¬ 
seer explained. “We chop the plants down with 
knives, then throw the outer leaves away. The 
inner leaves are the ones we send to the strippers 
who remove the pulp, first cutting the leaves into 
strips.” 

In the doorway of a factory Peter watched, 
fascinated, as the leaves were pulled under a sharp 



THEMOROS AND BAGOBOS AT HOME 


223 



Ewing Galloway 

THE WOMEN WORE EMBROIDERED GARMENTS 
OF GRASS CLOTH 

knife fastened to a block. The wet fibers were then 
dried on poles, baled, and sent to the docks. Patient 
carabaos waited for their loads. 

Going back into Davao Peter and Nancy caught 
sight of many fine-looking natives walking into 
town. Whenever they thought of Davao after¬ 
ward, they saw piles of golden hemp, but they also 
saw golden-skinned natives. The Bagobos had 
bright yellow skin that looked as though it had 
been colored by a loving sun. Their long, shining 
black hair was almost invariably caught up and 
wrapped under a colorful turban. 




224 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


It seemed a shame to file beautiful teeth and to 
blacken them with the red juice of the betel nut. 
And it did seem strange for men to be so fond of 
earrings. A rich man might have great round 
plates of ivory for earrings, a poor man might have 
them just as big, but of wood. To be poor did not 
mean that one must forego a style. The women 
wore earplugs, often of silver or brass. The gar¬ 
ments of beautifully woven and dyed grass cloth 
were often embroidered in beads. The men’s 
jackets and short trousers were all fine in design, 
and they carried knapsacks of embroidered grass 
cloth that were the work of master weavers. 

The women wore many ornaments of brass and 
shell, and around their ankles were rattles and 
bells. Their happy laughter and the jingle of the 
tiny bells remained among the delightful memories 
of Davao, the hemp center. 



ON THE PATH OF MAGELLAN 


P ETER and Nancy gazed back longingly on 
Davao and its guardian mountain, Apo, the 
highest in the isles. Some day, they thought, mod¬ 
ern viewpoints would modify the customs of some 
of the Moros and Bagobos back in the mountains. 
The sending of messages by pounding on the trunk 
of a hollow tree, in time, would be replaced by the 
clicking of telegraph keys. 

Ahead lay the Visayan Islands, that great 
central group of the Philippine Archipelago. 
Panay, Negros, Cebu, Bohol, Leyte, and Samar 
were the largest of the group. In spite of being 
mountainous they were thickly populated. 

Many other islands dotted the sea, but the Mac- 
Larens decided to visit only the most picturesque 
and important. Green islands they all were, with 
coconut palms edging their beaches, and mountains 
backing up from the plains. Uncle Lee said that 
the natives raised sugar, rice, tobacco, hemp, vege¬ 
tables, and fruits on the plains. The product 
grown nearest the sea was copra. Back in the 
mountains were rich treasures, mostly untouched 
—copper, lead, silver, and gold. 

Nearing Cebu, Peter almost wished that he could 
wade ashore after the manner of Magellan, but 
the sight that met his eyes was so modern as to 
make such an ancient romantic gesture absurd. 


225 


226 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Kaufman <& Fabry 


A LITTLE GREEN ISLAND 


The harbor was full of commercial vessels, laden 
with rice, maguey, and hemp. 

“What’s maguey?” Nancy asked. 

“Maguey’s much like hemp,” Uncle Lee was say¬ 
ing. “I’ll show you a field of it near Cebu. The 
soil is thin here and rain is scanty, a perfect climate 
for maguey.” 

“The town looks green enough,” Nancy observed. 
“And I can almost smell the flowers.” 

Cebu was indeed modern with its shop-lined 
streets, radio towers, and congested automobile 
traffic. As the children and Uncle Lee drove about 






ON THE PATH OF MAGELLAN 


227 


the city he said to them, “We’re on the Calle Colon, 
the oldest street in the Philippines. Cebu, as you 
already know, was the first Spanish settlement in 
the Philippines, and it was the capital of the islands 
until Manila won over the honor.” 

“Where did Magellan land?” Peter inquired. 
“All I can see now is modern shops, well-built 
schools, and handsome churches.” 

Uncle Lee told of the adventurous Magellan who, 
just twenty-nine years after Columbus discovered 
America, sighted the Philippines March 16, 1521. 
He landed there and strove mightily to subdue the 
savage people on the island. The Raja of Cebu 
finally agreed to peace terms. The islands were 
christened St. Lazarus Islands because they were 
discovered on St. Lazarus Day. It was said that 
Magellan waded ashore at Cebu, the flag of Spain 
in one hand and the cross in the other. 

“One of the travelers on the boat said that Cebu 
always had been proud of its schools, even before 
the Americans took charge,” said Peter. “This 
chap said they had everything from kindergartens 
through normal school, and some trade schools be¬ 
sides. Attractive modern homes, too, but not 
according to our ideas of architecture.” 

Uncle Lee then told the children that ever since 
the United States gained possession of the Philip¬ 
pines in 1898, the government had tried to train 
the people for independence. In 1935 an act of 
Congress gave a great degree of independence to 
the Islands. It promised the protection of the 



228 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Exoing Galloway 


THE CAPITOL BUILDING AT MANILA 


American flag for the next ten years. At the end 
of that time, the Philippine Islands are expected 
to be declared independent of the United States 
and should become entirely self-governing. 

“In the meantime, the United States Government 
is represented in the Philippines by an official, the 
High Commissioner, who will act for the President 
of the United States whenever it is necessary for 
him to do so,” Uncle Lee said. 

“And they have a Filipino President now, don’t 
they?” asked Peter. 

“Yes,” answered Uncle Lee. 



ON THE PATH OF MAGELLAN 


229 


“I like all those neat little houses with thatched 
roofs,” Nancy cried. “Each one has its own little 
garden. That is to let the air circulate and keep 
the family cool.” 

“To the water front!” Uncle Lee said in answer 
to the driver’s question. 

It was near the water front on the main plaza, 
in an old building, that Peter and Nancy gazed 
through an iron grating at a large wooden cross 
before which two candles burned. 

“In that wooden cross, which is hollow, is the 
original cross, so it is believed, that Magellan car¬ 
ried when he held mass on this spot,” Uncle Lee in¬ 
formed Peter and Nancy. 

“Look at the coins people have thrown in through 
the grating,” Peter cried. “Some of them are for¬ 
eign coins. See that silver piece, Nancy? Twenty 
centavos! That is equal to about ten cents of our 
money.” 

Near the shrine stood the triangular Fort San 
Pedro, built on the site of Magellan’s fortifications. 

The MacLarens passed out of the hot sun into 
the coolness of the church of St. Augustine. The 
old sacristan said, “Come, I will show you the Holy 
Child of Cebu.” 

Peter and Nancy stared at the little black wooden 
image of the infant Jesus with deep reverence. The 
image, so said the sacristan, had been brought by 
Magellan from his native land. In 1521 he gave 
it to the wife of the Raja of Cebu, the most pre¬ 
cious gift he could bestow upon her when she be- 



230 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


came a Christian. No one knew what became of it 
immediately after that. But forty years after 
Magellan’s death, soldiers found the sacred image 
in a native hut. Everybody rejoiced, for all the 
islanders felt that it was a sign that the time had 
come for making Cebu a big and wonderful city. 
From that moment, Cebu began to grow and 
prosper. 

The MacLarens were driven along a pleasant 
shore line where the sea rolled in with a deep, 
pulsing roar. In a more quiet stretch Uncle Lee 
pointed out great salt beds where the natives were 
evaporating salt from sea water. These salt beds 
were paved with bricks on which the salt accumu¬ 
lated. Workers, mostly women, gathered the salt 
from the bricks and dried it in the hot tropical sun. 

All the way there were level, fine roads, and it 
seemed no time at all until the city was far behind 
and a vast rice plantation came in view, succeeded 
by tobacco, abaca, and sugar plantations. 

“And now we come to a field of nice big weeds!” 
Peter cried. “In other words, maguey!” 

Nancy exclaimed in surprise when she saw 
workers cutting the leaves into strips and carrying 
huge bundles down to a near-by stream. Here 
were a great many other bundles soaking. Uncle 
Lee said it was not uncommon to find maguey 
leaves decaying in streams, in ponds, or in ocean 
water. In some places fibers had been dragged out 
of the slime and laid out to dry. The odor was 
very disagreeable. It seemed to the MacLarens 



ON THE P4TH nr Mirrrr a at 



Kaufman & Fabry 

EVAPORATING SALT FROM SEA WATER 


that it would be much better to use the fiber¬ 
stripping machines. 

Driving back to Cebu Peter asked, “Couldn’t we 
visit Mactan, Uncle Lee, to see where Magellan 
died?” 

“It’s only a ten-minute trip,” Nancy put in. 
“There’s a launch down at the wharf that will take 
us over. I noticed it this morning.” 

The launch ride ended at a sandy beach where a 
car awaited the passengers. It took them to the 
handsome white marble shaft that had been erected 















232 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


as a memorial to Magellan on the site where a 
native arrow had ended the earthly journey of 
that great explorer and discoverer. 

Back in Cebu the MacLarens tarried only long- 
enough to catch another inter-island passenger 
boat, this time to the island of Negros. It was 
another hot, sultry day, as the coastal boat with 
the MacLarens aboard, steamed toward the harbor 
of Dumaguete on the southeast coast of Negros. 
The Captain pointed out the island of Siquijor, 
which had risen from the bottom of the sea during 
a strange convulsion of Mother Earth. Green and 
beautiful, it seemed to smile at the sky in glad 
greeting. 

The MacLarens drove through busy streets, lined 
with Chinese shops, modern schools, and public 
buildings. The flowery parks and lovely homes 
built in Spanish architecture rose against a bril¬ 
liant blue sky. 

Peter grew impatient to visit the watchtower, 
of which he had had only a glimpse. He found it 
to be a sturdy relic of pioneer days when it was 
the fashion for Moro pirates to attack and rob 
cities. It was in this tower that guards were 
stationed to watch for the coming of the Moros and 
to warn the settlers so that they might flee. 

“The tower,” observed Uncle Lee, “represents 
the past, just as the modern schools represent the 
present.” 

“Enough sugar ahead to make Christmas candy 
for the world!” Uncle Lee was pointing to a palm- 



ON THE PATH OF MAGELLAN 


233 


edged beach behind which appeared the usual docks 
and other buildings of a tropical town. 

“Sugar island/’ Peter mused. “I shouldn’t mind 
being sent out here by a commercial firm. Let’s go 
out and watch the little brown men load the boats 
with sweets.” 

“But it’s not sweets! Sweetness!” teased Nancy. 
“Those smoking sugar centrals are producing a 
crude sugar to be loaded for foreign ports, but it 
certainly is not being loaded in the form of candy 
canes or bonbons.” 

The next morning found the MacLarens bound 
for Iloilo on the island of Panay. Peter shouted 
excitedly when he saw the Stars and Stripes waving 
from the masts of several ships that were bringing 
in manufactured products to exchange for Panay’s 
sugar. 

Although the weather was hot and sultry, the 
town with its white buildings and the blue-green 
mountains in the background looked invitingly 
cool. It was not cool, but the house where the 
MacLarens stayed was comfortable. 

The network of smooth roads made sight-seeing 
a delight. Peter and Nancy found the coconut 
plantations lovely, and they enjoyed watching the 
humped cattle. They often saw native women 
carrying bamboo tubes of water to men in the 
fields. Peter tried to make a bamboo water tube 
and succeeded very well by hackling out all the 
partitions except the bottom one of the stalk, as he 
had seen the natives do. 



234 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Kaufman & Fabry 

NATIVE WOMEN WEAVING CLOTH 


“Remember Panay for cloth weaving, young¬ 
sters,” Uncle Lee suggested. “It isn’t all sugar 
and rice and bamboo water pipes.” 

There followed friendly visits to several thatched 
huts built on stilts where native women worked at 
their looms. Later, in the shops of Manila, Nancy 
would exclaim at some special color or design and 
recall where she had seen such goods made—in 
Panay. 

Strangely enough, the women did not make just 
one kind of cloth. There was cotton cloth friade 
from cotton thread; there was sinamay, woven from 






235 


ON THE PATH OF MAGELLAN 


abaca fiber; there was jusi, woven from fine pine¬ 
apple fiber and silk; and there was pina cloth, 
woven from the fibers of the pineapple plant. 

The MacLarens would have liked to linger a 
while in Iloilo, but the holidays were swiftly ap¬ 
proaching. 

“We leave for Manila in the morning!” an¬ 
nounced Uncle Lee. 

“Oh, Uncle Lee!” Two voices were heavy with 
disappointment. 

“How about Samar and Masbate, Leyte and 
Bohol?” Peter demanded. “When it’s clear, we can 
see Bohol to the east. When I grow up, I’m going 
to visit every island in the Philippine group.” 

“There’s one island we can’t land on,” Uncle 
Lee said. “But I want you to remember it. Be¬ 
tween Mindoro and Palawan—look at this map— 
lies the little island of Culion. Here is the leper 
colony. A few years ago, lepers swarmed all over 
the Philippines, begging from everyone. Now they 
are well cared for on Culion, and many of them are 
cured and sent back to their homes. 

“The matter of sanitation and prevention of 
disease has kept the Board of Health busy. But 
this Board seems to have a paternal interest in its 
people.” 

“In Manila the Board of Health does your worry¬ 
ing for you,” Peter announced. “I guess we can 
chuck the medicine kit!” 

“Manila sounds good to me,” Peter decided. 

“It sounds perfect,” Nancy added with emphasis. 




AN ISLAND CITY 


U NCLE LEE, Peter, and Nancy lay in their 
deck chairs and sunned themselves under the 
gay awnings of the steamer. The sea they squinted 
at was rippled by a light breeze. Gulls skimmed 
gracefully over the waves. 

As they approached Palawan Island, Uncle Lee 
told the children of the novel experiment at the 
Iwahig Penal Colony located there. Over five hun¬ 
dred convicts who conducted themselves well at the 
Bilibid prison in Manila were gathered on Palawan 
Island under the name of “colonists.” They were 
put at entire liberty without any armed guards or 
any special restraint. All the petty officers and 
police were prisoners. Agriculture and various 
trades were carried on. Under certain conditions 
some of the prisoners were given an allotment of 
land, and their families were allowed to join them. 

Suddenly the stillness was broken by the familiar 
roar of a motor, and a hydroplane, its wings 
agleam with moisture, soared up into the tropical 
blue sky. Farther away sailed other planes in 
formation. 

“Looks like a flock of wild ducks back home,” 
Peter observed. “I suppose these planes come from 
army headquarters.” 

“We’re off the island of Corregidor, at the en¬ 
trance to Manila Bay,” announced Uncle Lee. 


236 


AN ISLAND CITY 


237 



Kaufman & Fabry 

SHIPS OF MANY COUNTRIES IN MANILA BAY 


“This is the scene of Admiral Dewey’s decisive bat¬ 
tle with the Spaniards, the first encounter of the 
Spanish-American War.” 

“Are we following right in the Admiral’s foot¬ 
steps?” Peter inquired, as both he and Nancy got 
out of their deck chairs and went to the rail to 
stand beside Uncle Lee. “I mean, are we following 
the same course?” 

“We are,” Uncle Lee pointed. “Notice that the 
island divides the entrance to the bay into two 
channels. Big guns over there on Corregidor show 
that it still is a fort.” 






238 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


“I had no idea the bay was so big,” Nancy said 
a little later. “Why, we’re almost out of sight of 
land here. I suppose that hazy, blue line off there 
will turn out to be hills.” 

“Right you are,” Uncle Lee agreed. “When 
there’s a storm on the bay, you’d think you were 
on the ocean. Soon you’ll see the new concrete 
breakwater. It’s several miles long and very neces¬ 
sary to insure a safe inner harbor.” 

For more than two hours the MacLaren children 
stood at the rail, oblivious of the crowds on deck 
getting their hand luggage collected, ready to land. 
They watched the ships in the bay. Ships from 
Japan and China; ships from India; ships from 
Australia; and, on the right of the harbor, United 
States battleships lying off the naval station at 
Cavite. Beside the larger craft were familiar 
inter-island excursion boats, some outbound for 
Cebu and Zamboanga and Iloilo; tugboats haul¬ 
ing cascoes or barges, also ferryboats, and fishing 
boats! The harbor seemed the hub of the maritime 
universe. 

“The piers are very long,” Peter exclaimed. 

“We’re reaching the inner bay through a narrow 
passage in the breakwater,” Uncle Lee pointed out. 
“The piers are equipped with the latest types of 
steam cranes and elevators. Much of this land 
that you see was made when the harbor was deep¬ 
ened inside the breakwater.” 

An automobile transported the MacLarens from 
the pier to their hotel. 



AN ISLAND CITY 


239 



Kaufman d Fabry 

CASCOES LOADED WITH TOBACCO 


As the three travelers settled down in their suite 
of rooms, Uncle Lee asked, “What do you think of 
the windows, Nancy?” 

Nancy fingered the little mother-of-pearl panes, 
set in wooden frames, and said, “They can’t be 
shells. I suppose they’re of opaque rainbow glass.” 

“They actually are mother-of-pearl,” Uncle Lee 
explained. “The pearl shell has been ground down 
until it is as thin as glass. You’ll see many similar 
windows in Manila. Shall we take a drive and see 
the city of Manila from the tower of the church of 
St. Sebastian, as so many tourists do?” 







240 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

A LOAD OF HEMP ON THE DOCKS IN MANILA 

“I'd rather see it from a plane, like one of those 
charting geographers," Peter declared. 

Uncle Lee's eyes twinkled, but he did not inform 
the children that Jimmy was in Manila. That was 
to be a surprise at dinner time, when Jimmy, him¬ 
self, would be there to announce their plans. 

The next morning they started on their trip. 

“We're flying at an altitude of three thousand 
feet," Jimmy announced. “Look below!" 

The plane was over a beautiful city near the 
blue bay. A shining river with bridges wound 
through it. 





AN ISLAND CITY 


241 


“Manila!” shouted Peter and Nancy together. 

“The Pasig River!” Jimmy pointed downward. 
“There’s the Sternberg Hospital and the city ice 
plant near it. That tall smokestack belongs to the 
ice plant. There’s the new post office. The second 
bridge .there is the Santa Ana. Farther down¬ 
stream is the beautiful new Jones Bridge.” 

Peter and Nancy turned their gaze from the 
many bridges arching the river to look at the nu¬ 
merous intersecting canals and the low-lying part 
of the business section with its busy docks. 

Uncle Lee had been scanning the horizon. “The 
Clippers now land near Cavite a few miles away. 
See, over there!” He pointed. “It’s an hour’s 
ride by automobile from the heart of Manila 
to the western terminus of the Clipper route!” 

“All aboard for San Francisco!” shouted Peter. 
“What comes over must come back! Climb in, 
Nancy! Guam! Wake! Midway! Honolulu! 
San Francisco! Home!” 

“You sound like radio station KZRQ at Manila,” 
Jimmy remarked and looked down on Manila Bay 
shining like polished silver. 

Jimmy circled over the harbor and brought his 
plane down near the wharves, from which the Mac- 
Larens went to their hotel. Jimmy said he would 
follow soon. 

The hotel faced an open park and was itself 
spacious and airy. All beams were exposed and 
partitions were of lattice. 

“For the sake of coolness,” Uncle Lee explained. 





242 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

A STREET IN THE NATIVE SECTION OF MANILA 

Nancy's bed was enclosed with mosquito netting, 
as it often had been in the tropics. Beneath her 
window was a riot of bloom of bougainvillaea and 
hibiscus, and gorgeous poinsettias. 

A little later the MacLarens were strolling along 
the Escolta, called, so Uncle Lee declared, the 
Broadway of Manila. Nancy was delighted with 
the Christmas gifts shown in the windows, and 
almost as delighted with the picturesque Spanish 
buildings with their balconies extending over the 
sidewalk. It was the little side streets with their 
quaint shops that soon attracted the children. The 



AN ISLAND CITY 


243 


crowds here were of several races. There were 
turbaned Hindus, Moros, white-robed friars, sol¬ 
diers and sailors, and Americans. 

In the residential part of the native section the 
streets were alleys as far as width was concerned. 
High fences surrounded many of the thatched, 
nipa and bamboo homes. 

Before returning to the hotel the MacLarens 
climbed the spiral staircase of the tower in the 
church of St. Sebastian to look down over the 
city. It lay on a plain, as they had already guessed, 
a plain edged by blue mountains. For miles it 
skirted the bay, and their eyes scanned numerous 
buildings until they paused on the Pasig River 
which flowed from the Laguna de Bay into the 
Bay of Manila. On the north bank sparkled the 
new Manila; on the south bank drowsed the old 
walled city of the Spaniards. 

“That’s what I want to see!” Peter cried. “The 
old walled city!” 

“Not today, especially if we have to climb 
places,” Nancy objected, and, for some reason 
Uncle Lee sided with Nancy. 

The next morning, much refreshed, Nancy was 
quite as eager as Peter to visit the walled city. 
Uncle Lee talked rapidly as they drove slowly 
along the street. 

“The Walled City,” he explained, “was started 
by the Spanish in 1590. At one time it enclosed 
all Manila. The eighteen-hole golf course, the 
tennis courts, and the playgrounds that you will 




244 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Kaufman d Fabry 

FORT SANTIAGO 

see are located on what was formerly a moat. It 
is now called the Sunken Garden.” 

They made their first stop at the aquarium, built 
in a detached bastion of the old wall. Here Peter 
and Nancy stared in incredulous wonder at bril¬ 
liant, beautiful tropical fish with amazing eyes and 
fins, and tails like draped chiffon. But, impatient 
to be within the walls, they entered Victoria Gate. 

They drove about within the great stone walls, 
which were from twenty to thirty feet in height 
and thickness. Uncle Lee pointed out many old 
Spanish buildings and shops, and he reminded the 
children that there had once been the citadel. 





AN ISLAND CITY 


245 



Kaufman <£ Fabry 

AN OLD SPANISH CHURCH IN MANILA 


The churches proved inspiring. There was the 
oldest church in Manila, the Augustinian, with its 
vaulted marble nave. Then followed the cathedral 
with its six chapels, recalling the visit to St. Peter’s 
in Rome. The Jesuit church was most interesting 












246 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


of all, since its interior, including the superbly 
carved pulpit, was all of carved Philippine hard¬ 
wood. Their delight in the square-towered church 
of Santo Domingo centered upon the richly deco¬ 
rated statue of the Virgin and the silver altar; 
and in the Recoleto church, upon the graceful tower 
and the image of St. Ramon. Manila was full of 
ancient and beautiful churches. 

Nearby stood one of the oldest educational insti¬ 
tutions of the New World, the University of Santo 
Tomas, founded in 1619. The oldest part of the 
wall housed the headquarters of the United States 
Army Department of the Philippines and was 
known as Fort Santiago. 

Leaving the Walled City, Uncle Lee continued 
in his role of professional guide by pointing out 
the Manila Post Office and the Metropolitan Thea¬ 
ter. Then he drove the car on until the exclama¬ 
tions of his passengers brought him to a pause 
near the Malacanang Palace on the Pasig River, 
the official residence of the Filipino President. A 
very beautiful park provided the setting for the 
palace, the windows of which, the children noticed, 
were of shell like the hotel windows. 

“You’ll see some lovely lighting there during 
the holidays,” Uncle Lee promised. 

A visit along the Esteros showed a great number 
of houseboats which convinced Peter that many 
Filipinos spent their lives on the water, just as 
many people back home were beginning to spend 
their lives in trailers. 



AN ISLAND CITY 


247 



Kaufman & Fabry 

THE RESIDENCE OF THE FILIPINO PRESIDENT 


In the afternoon the MacLarens visited Bilibid 
Prison. First of all they viewed a display room in 
which fine pieces of wicker and hardwood furni¬ 
ture, made by the prisoners, were offered for sale. 




248 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


According to their guide, Bilibid was the best- 
managed prison in the Far East. The MacLarens 
watched the prisoners at work. Last of all, at 
half past four in the afternoon, they saw the pris¬ 
oners assemble in the yard and go through a calis- 
thenic drill to the music of a band. The men then 
marched off to be locked up for the night. 

“The Filipino people,” said one of the guards, 
“are, as a rule, law abiding and peace loving.” 

Driving back to the Luneta, it was Nancy who 
insisted that they all get out to view the statue of 
Rizal, the great Filipino leader, which had been 
erected in the center of the Luneta, a wide green 
park. The peaceful park gave no indication that 
there ever had been revolution in the land. 

From the Luneta they drove along Dewey Boule¬ 
vard, a beautiful two-way street with palm-lined 
parking in the center. The sun was setting across 
Mount Mariveles as the MacLarens turned home¬ 
ward. It turned the bay to gold, to rose, to pale 
lavender, and it lingered in the mountains like 
living glory. 

The sun set suddenly, and lights sparkled all 
over the city. The air was balmy and sweet with 
the scent of flowers. Some travelers assert there 
are no more beautiful sunsets in the world than 
those to be seen across Manila Bay. It was not 
new to the MacLarens to have darkness fall soon 
after the sun set, but it never ceased to be a surprise 
to them that there was so little twilight in the 
tropics. 



AN EXCITING RIVER TRIP 


J IMMY DUSTIN was waiting impatiently 
at the hotel. He thrust a newspaper into 
Uncle Lee’s hands, calling his attention to a front 
page item: China- Clipper Arrives at Cavite. 

“Hurrah!” shouted Peter. “May we go to 
Cavite, Uncle Lee?” 

“But I want to see that bamboo organ I heard 
about,” said Nancy. 

“It’s in Las Pinas, which we pass on the way to 
Cavite,” Jimmy explained. 

Uncle Lee secured a car and a driver for the 
trip to Cavite. At Las Pinas in an old church they 
saw the famous organ which was built entirely of 
bamboo. No metal or other material was used in 
its construction. It was the only one of its kind 
in the world. 

“It was built over a hundred years ago,” Jimmy 
informed Nancy, “by a Spanish friar, Father 
Diego.” 

A young friar, at Nancy’s request, played some 
church music. The bamboo pipes sounded strangely 
sweet as they gave out the melody of “Adeste 
Fideles.” 

A little later, the party was at Cavite. It was a 
modern city, situated pleasantly on Manila Bay 
opposite the city of Manila. Soldiers and sailors 
milled about the grounds of the United States 


249 


250 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

THE RICE TERRACES OF BANAUE 

Naval Base and the radio station. Several officers 
from the Clipper Ship greeted Jimmy. 

The MacLarens rode back across the bay in a 
launch. In the mail they found an invitation from 
a party of Americans to spend Christmas at 
Baguio. Uncle Lee immediately wrote a note of 
acceptance. 

Jimmy suggested that meantime he could show 
the MacLarens more in an hour from a plane than 
they could see in a week by railway or motoring. 

The next morning saw Jimmy Dustin’s plane 
winging its way to the northern part of Luzon with 
the MacLarens as passengers. At last they were 




AN EXCITING RIVER TRIP 


251 


looking down upon the famous rice terraces of 
Banaue. These terraces had been built by the 
Ifugaos, an industrious mountain people, twenty 
centuries ago, so Uncle Lee declared. Numbering 
about a hundred thousand, these people had found 
it necessary to make a living on the bleak mountain 
sides. With wooden shovels they had erected 
around their tiny garden patches walls of dirt and 
stone a foot or more thick and often forty feet high. 
A hundred square miles of land had been treated 
thus. Jimmy said that if the walls were placed 
end to end, they would extend halfway around the 
world. 

“Their system of irrigation was their own,” 
Uncle Lee told Peter. “They could have known 
little of engineering. The tiny gardens contain 
mud and water in correct proportion, and the walls 
are so constructed that excess water will seep down 
to lower levels where it is needed. Those rice 
terraces are one of the wonders of the world. Some 
of them have been here for centuries.” 

Back in Manila plans were made for a river-boat 
excursion the next day. 

The next morning Uncle Lee urged haste in 
order to join others on the Pasig River. 

“We’re going up to Laguna de Bay,” Uncle Lee 
announced, “the source of the Pasig.” 

The numerous bridges across the Pasig reminded 
Peter and Nancy of the bridges across the Seine 
in Paris. At the end of the boat trip in the fine 
launch was Laguna de Bay, where Nancy saw so 




252 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


many lotus blossoms that she ever after remem¬ 
bered the lovely lake by its flowers. Although it 
was not the season for their greatest beauty, the 
lotuses were rich in large shiny green leaves. 
The leaves were the shape of lily pads but they 
grew several feet above the water. Peter and 
Nancy used the leaves as sunshades. 

A second excursion followed close upon the heels 
of the first. This time the MacLarens drove to 
the village of Pagsanjan, to take a trip to the falls 
and to visit the heart of the coconut district of 
Luzon. 

Peter and Nancy had been warned by some 
youngsters at the hotel to wear clothing that could 
stand a dousing. But they went to sleep in the vil¬ 
lage with no thought for the morrow. Uncle Lee 
had insisted that they retire early, but when he 
called them, they were groggy with sleep. The 
young Filipino servant who supplied them with 
sun hats and hemp sandals laughed at their screwed 
up faces. 

Uncle Lee’s promise that they would see a river 
dropping over a cliff in two separate waterfalls, 
one below the other, roused them into activity. 
Afterward they wondered whether or not there 
had been a twinkle in Uncle Lee’s eyes that they 
were too sleepy to see. 

The ride began at the village of Pagsanjan. 
Peter was proud to be able to pronounce it. He 
said, “Pag-san-han, Nancy! There’s a word for 
you! Pag-san-han!” 



AN EXCITING RIVER TRIP 


253 


Each of the MacLarens rode in a separate banca, 
a native boat something like a canoe, paddled by 
two expert banceros, or boatmen. The banceros 
were the color of mahogany, and their muscles 
looked like brown rope. 

The first picture that Peter and Nancy saw as 
the bancas slid gently into the river was of soft 
mist and green banks. Farther on the monkeys 
began to come down to the water to drink, great 
strong monkeys, at first, with frisking tails, then 
hordes of other monkeys, with the tiny ones ap¬ 
pearing last. Their wary mothers watched while 
the babies drank. 

“If you hadn’t gotten up so early, you’d have 
missed that sight,” Uncle Lee commented. 

And now the river scene changed. The Mac¬ 
Larens began to notice that the banks were piled 
high with coconuts. Peter watched a brown boy 
breaking husks, by raising them high and bring¬ 
ing them down with considerable force on an iron 
spike attached to a spoke at the edge of the river. 
Rhythmically, as though he were working in a 
factory, the boy split one big nut after another, 
tossing the husks away and passing the clean nut 
to another workman who promptly cracked it open 
with a bolo. He then threw the pieces aside to be 
dried as copra. 

Now the river narrowed. It entered a gorge. 
Nancy uttered a cry of fright as the first iguana 
she had seen slid off a rock where is had been sun¬ 
ning itself. It made a great splash. But soon 




254 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

CUTTING OPEN COCONUTS FOR DRYING 


she began to thoroughly enjoy watching the lizards 
take their dips. 

A beautiful blue-and-orange kingfisher flew 
straight up. It was a brief but lovely picture. 
Then the boats entered a deeper gorge, and the 
sunny river was left behind. Due to the heavy 
jungle growth the gorge grew quite dark. 

In many places the boatmen got into the water 
and pulled and shoved the boat along. Above, the 
great cliffs of Pagsanjan towered majestically. 
Great boulders had fallen into the water. Where 
the boatmen were unable to paddle against the cur¬ 
rent, or to wade, they fought their way forward 
by clinging to vines, rocks, anything within reach. 



AN EXCITING RIVER TRIP 


255 


Suddenly Uncle Lee’s boat shipped so much 
water that it capsized. Nancy shrieked, but Uncle 
Lee’s head appeared at once. 

“Don’t worry,” he called. “This water isn’t 
deep enough for anyone to drown in.” 

He swam to a rock and waited for the bancero 
to drag the boat onto a projecting rock. 

The portage was enjoyable, the banceros carry¬ 
ing the boats on their shoulders while the Mac- 
Larens scrambled over the rocks. They came upon 
a lovely pool in which Peter enjoyed a swim. 

The MacLarens viewed the falls without much 
comment. Both Peter and Nancy had had mind 
pictures of a great river, cascading wildly down a 
precipice and breaking into white, sparkling water 
like Niagara. 

“Well,” commented Uncle Lee, “you won’t be 
disappointed in the rapids.” 

Nor were they. As the boats left the quiet pool, 
they seemed to go faster and faster. Water swirled 
up in white foam, and, when the first spray hit 
Nancy’s face, she closed her eyes and held her 
breath. But not for long! Soon she was shouting 
as loudly as Peter. 

The expert banceros bent like coconut palms in 
a storm. Their paddles flashed. The little boats 
bounced and rose on end. Then they settled into 
deep crevices and shot out again straight for the 
shore, only to return within a flash to the center 
of the stream again. It was exciting, it was thrill¬ 
ing, it was, alas, all too short. 



256 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

THRESHING RICE 

Back in Pagsanjan Uncle Lee said, “I’d like 
you to see a real coconut farm before going back 
to Manila.” 

“I thought coconuts grew wild,” Peter said. “I 
never saw so many. Shouldn’t think they’d have 
to plant them.” 

But an hour later as they strolled about a coco¬ 
nut plantation, Peter was impressed. He knew 
that back in Minnesota his father was very careful 
to select the best seed for planting. On the planta¬ 
tion he saw, beneath a thatched shed, row upon 
row of fine coconuts that were sprouted ready for 





AN EXCITING RIVER TRIP 


257 


planting. The overseer spoke of seed coconuts just 
as Peter spoke of seed potatoes. 

“No winter here,” Peter observed as he and 
Nancy got into the car to return to Manila. “No 
time to ‘hole in’ and take it easy. That’s because 
the Philippines are nearer the equator than any 
part of the United States.” 

“There’s some idle time in agricultural lines,” 
Uncle Lee decided. “During our winter and spring 
the northeast winds bring rain to the eastern slopes 
of the mountains. Then the western parts of the 
islands have a dry season. But during our summer 
and autumn months, circular storms, or typhoons, 
bring plenty of rain. Rice, sugar, and tobacco 
grow well, to be harvested in the dry season.” 

“How about the regions that have practically 
no dry season?” Nancy asked. 

“There the farmers grow bananas, Manila hemp, 
and coconuts,” Uncle Lee responded. “These prod¬ 
ucts need rainfall all the year.” 

“Every climate under the sun!” Peter decided. 
“They were putting up more Christmas trees in 
the hotel as we left. They came from Baguio.” 

“And they look just like the firs from northern 
Wisconsin and northern Minnesota,” Nancy cried. 
“They smelled like home.” 

“And Manila will seem like home when we get 
there tonight,” said Peter. 



VOLCANOES 


T HERE was a mysterious look in Uncle Lee’s 
eyes as Nancy asked at the breakfast table, 
“What are we going to do today?” 

“I know!” Peter declared. “Uncle Lee’s plan¬ 
ning to surprise us. I heard him tell a guest in 
the hotel last night that he was going to show us 
a volcano.” 

“A volcano?” Uncle Lee teased. “I’m going to 
show you two volcanoes. We are going down to 
Mayon first, which is considered one of the most 
perfect cones in the world. Then we’ll see Taal on 
the way back for a close-up.” 

The country was rich and beautiful as the Mac- 
Larens flew toward the southern end of Luzon. 
Miles and miles of waving hemp met their gaze, 
with here and there groups of Filipino homes. 
They landed at the town of Albay, in the center 
of the hemp industry. 

Here, in the Bicol Provinces, abaca plants grew 
richly, and the MacLarens realized, as never be¬ 
fore, how rich volcanic soil really was. Warmth 
and rain and rich soil; these were necessary to 
grow hemp. 

The MacLarens remained over night in the home 
of a man to whom Uncle Lee had been given a 
letter of introduction. A mountain seemed to rise 
straight up behind the town. The host explained 

258 


VOLCANOES 


259 



Kaufman & Fabry 

MOUNT MAYON VOLCANO 


that it was an active volcano and also that it 
would be too difficult for the young lady to attempt. 

Nancy insisted that she was used to the rigors 
of travel, and the guide chosen for the trip prom¬ 
ised to take along his own daughter to look after 
Nancy. 

As the party set out on horseback in the early 
dawn, they saw Mount Mayon always before them. 
Uncle Lee said that it rose to the height of 7,916 
feet. Going closer and closer the newcomers real¬ 
ized that what had appeared like a delicate green 
base was really a jungle through which it was 






260 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


difficult to travel. The furrowed, streaked, cone- 
shaped top of the mountain rose up from that 
thickly interlaced greenery. 

There were many small cleared settlements and 
farms in the shade of palms and tropical plants. 
The little thatched houses with their shrubbery and 
bright flowers appeared as peaceful as Minnesota 
farms. Yet, on looking up, the dwellers of these 
jungle-cleared farms could see any day what 
seemed to be clouds of yellowish-white fumes pour¬ 
ing from the mouth of the crater. The grayish- 
black, tapering sides looked smooth and menacing, 
as did the greenish furrows and ridges down near 
the tree line. 

Uncle Lee followed the guide up a zigzag trail 
to a point where only a few scrubby plants grew. 
Deep gorges, heavy ridges, and strangely shaped 
roadways had been formed out of the molten lava. 
It was not so hot as it had been down in the 
jungle. Nevertheless, the faces of every one in 
the party were wet with perspiration. When the 
guide announced that the horses must go no 
farther and that the advance to the crater itself 
must be made on foot over slippery rocks, even 
Uncle Lee agreed that it would be better to turn 
back to the valley below. 

Squinting up, the children could see the jagged 
edges of the crater. The guide said the sulphur¬ 
ous fumes were escaping from the crater. Peter 
and Nancy decided that views of peaceful villages, 
blue lakes, and blue-green streams were pictures to 



VOLCANOES 


261 


treasure as much as that of Mayon in their list 
of travel memories. 

A few days later found the MacLarens still 
exploring. 

“We’re in the southwest end of Luzon,” Uncle 
Lee announced as the car jogged along in the 
warm sunshine. “We’re in Batangas Province and 
just about due south of Manila.” 

“I never saw so many coconuts!” Peter cried. “I 
remember what you said about coconut weather, 
Uncle Lee — warm climate, rich soil, heavy rain! 
Let’s stop and watch that fellow planting those 
sprouted nuts!” 

Uncle Lee obligingly came to a halt. The grin¬ 
ning worker showed Peter that the nut must be 
set into a hole of rich dirt, must be covered care¬ 
fully and watched to keep off animals that might 
be tempted to nibble the tender shoots. It took 
several years, Peter learned, before a coconut plant 
produced nuts. 

Citrus fruits grew close at hand, lemons and 
sweet little oranges. Coffee bushes showed their 
red berries. 

“The abaca grown hereabouts,” the worker vol¬ 
unteered, “is the finest in the world. It is sent to 
Japan to be made into women’s hats.” 

Uncle Lee explained that the native women 
made hats in Luzon, too. The fiber was taken from 
the buri palm. Hat-making required a great de¬ 
gree of skill, he added, but the women received 
very small pay. 




262 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Eicing Galloway 

WEAVING PALM FIBERS INTO STRAW HATS 

The green-covered slopes of the San Juan Moun¬ 
tains, through whose valleys the pleasant road 
wound, were dotted with many settlements. All of 
them played a part in the raising of hemp and in 
the making of hemp products. The MacLarens 
heard of hemp for sailcloth, hemp for rope, hemp 
for wrapping paper, hemp for mats and carpets, 
and even hemp for fish nets! 

Stopping at the San Juan sulphur springs, Uncle 
Lee drank deeply of the water to impress Peter 
and Nancy. He insisted that this water possessed 
all the curative properties of a spring tonic. Near 




VOLCANOES 


263 


by were Bawan hot springs, also a curative center, 
especially for rheumatic troubles. 

Peter and Nancy already had heard of the cave 
before they entered it. The neighborhood children 
ran before the MacLarens to take them through 
the entrance and to hear them exclaim over the 
sparkling stalactites and stalagmites. The cave 
was silent except for footfalls of sight-seers and 
the faint sound of lapping water. 

“A subterranean river rises in this cave,” Uncle 
Lee told the children. “It flows into Taal Lake. 
They say when Taal Volcano is about to erupt, 
weird sounds are heard in the cave. So the natives 
believe that the cave will warn them of danger.” 

“Does it tell the people in time?” Peter inquired. 

“I hope it will be able to next time,” Uncle Lee 
said quietly. “In 1911 Taal erupted, throwing 
burning lava over many acres and killing fourteen 
hundred people. It was on the morning of Janu¬ 
ary thirtieth that this volcano, known as the Cloud 
Maker, exploded with a terrific roar. It threw 
mud, water, and ashes over an area of nine square 
miles. Some villages were completely buried. 
Others were covered with debris. Still others 
caught fire and burned to the ground.” 

“In 1911!” Nancy exclaimed. “That isn’t so 
very long ago. A volcanic eruption is something 
we can get along without seeing, Uncle Lee.” 

Coming out of the beautiful, shining cave into 
the sunlight, Peter squinted up at a boy in a coco¬ 
nut tree. At first Peter stepped back as the tree 



264 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


swayed, thinking that the boy was trying to shake 
the nuts down. But nature, he soon saw, held the 
nuts firmly in place, and it took a good sharp knife 
to pry the nuts loose. 

The boy cracked a nut and gave Peter the 
milk to drink. The meat, he said, was to be cooked 
in sugar and eaten as candy for a treat. Nancy 
watched a Filipino mother making a fire of coconut 
husks and shells. She placed food in other shells 
to cook. Butter, lard, and even soap might be 
made from the white oil pressed from the meat. 
The residue, after the oil was extracted, would 
form copra cake. Uncle Lee said copra cake made 
good fodder for cattle or fine fertilizer for fields. 
In a clearing some ponies nibbled at bits of copra 
cake. 

“There are more horses here than any place 
we’ve visited thus far,” Peter observed. “Such 
cheerful-looking ponies, too!” 

“A good many of the ponies used to draw the 
carromatas in Manila come from the province of 
Batangas,” Uncle Lee informed Peter. “Also 
much pork is raised here. But I brought you and 
Nancy here, not so much to see ponies and pigs as 
to see Taal Volcano.” 

The MacLarens were ready to rest when they 
reached the inn. Nancy’s bed was under a canopy 
of net which hung down the sides. At night it was 
tucked in carefully to keep out the mosquitoes and 
other insects—and little lizards that might annoy 
the sleeper still more. 



VOLCANOES 


265 


“Until after the Bureau of Science was organ¬ 
ized in 1901 by Dr. Victor Heiser, the Philippines 
was neither a pleasant nor a safe place to visit,” 
remarked Uncle Lee. 

As they were resting, Uncle Lee told how the 
great work of the Bureau consisted, at first, almost 
wholly in protection against disease. The use of 
modern medicines had not penetrated very far. 

Not only was it necessary to safeguard what the 
people ate, what they drank, where they went, but 
they had to be taught cleanliness and sanitary 
ways of living. 

Lepers had to be isolated. The habit of using 
opium had to be overcome. Great swarms of mos¬ 
quitoes, flies, and termites had to be destroyed, and 
their breeding places cleared up. 

Hospitals for the sick had to be built, and native 
doctors and nurses trained. Filipinos made excel¬ 
lent physicians. 

The hospitals were beautiful buildings. They 
were open on all sides, cool, pleasant, and cheerful, 
as well as practical. 

“Of course,” Uncle Lee went on, “the Bureau 
could not end its efforts to assist the Filipinos by 
improving their general health. It also aided them 
in developing the natural resources of the islands 
and in building up industries.” 

He went on to tell Peter and Nancy how the 
Bureau of Science, now the Bureau of Government 
Laboratories, is tireless in its research work and 
its co-operation. By elimination of wasteful 



266 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


methods, the copra and sugar industries have 
brought in additional millions of dollars. 

“I think, perhaps, the most helpful of all is the 
pure water,” interrupted Peter. 

“Yes,” replied Uncle Lee. “That was one of 
the first things the Bureau insisted upon. The first 
artesian wells were drilled in 1904, and the old 
Spanish water-supply system has been extended 
and improved to include a modern filtration plant.” 

“We’ve had good water everywhere,” Nancy 
agreed. 

She stopped to watch her landlady, plump and 
brown, who sat on a mat in the clearing before 
the thatched house and worked at her beautiful 
embroidery. Her two little daughters, seated near 
her on a mat, told Nancy they had learned to em¬ 
broider. 

The little girls shyly displayed their work to 
Nancy, and the mother explained that embroidery 
was almost entirely a home industry in the islands. 
The materials and designs were sometimes sent out 
by exporting firms in Manila. 

“Taal is calling, Nancy!” Peter shouted as he 
followed Uncle Lee to a carromata. 

Riding in the queer little boxlike vehicle, it 
seemed to the children as if the stout driver were 
almost sitting on their laps. 

A lake soon appeared ahead, a lovely lake that 
might have been one of the ten thousand lakes 
back in Minnesota. But, as Nancy expressed it, 
it was a lake with a difference. Uncle Lee insisted 



VOLCANOES 


267 


that it was seventeen miles long and ten and one- 
half miles wide. Then he pointed out that an 
island five miles in diameter occupied the center. 
This island seemed to rise up and up and up, to 
fully a thousand feet. The conical shape was queer, 
too. All of a sudden it came with a rush: why, 
this was Taal Volcano! 

At the lake shore Uncle Lee dismissed the driver 
and hired a boatman to take his party across in a 
launch. The boatman helped to find a guide, and 
Uncle Lee with Peter and Nancy, was soon stum¬ 
bling up a narrow, winding path. The weather was 
hot and sticky, and the path led through thick, tall 
cogon grass that shut off the breeze. Trees and 
tropical flowers had grown up since that fatal 
morning in 1911. 

After what seemed a very long time, Uncle Lee 
paused. Nancy, too, stood still and fanned herself 
with her hat. 

“It seems cooler, now,” she said. 

It was cooler, for the MacLarens had climbed a 
long distance from the warm water line and were 
near the vegetation line. 

The trees and grass grew scantier. Peter and 
Nancy fairly scrambled after Uncle Lee, whose 
long legs could take such fine strides. Nancy was 
glad to grasp his hand as they made the last ascent 
over the crunchy ground that seemed to be covered 
with medium-sized cinders. On the way they had 
seen little jets of steam coming from cracks here 
and there on the side of the mountain. 



268 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


At the rim of the crater where the breeze was 
cool and delightful, they looked down into a lake. 
They had been told that it was hot and steaming, 
but at that distance they could see no steam. The 
lake within the crater was a yellowish green with 
a large stone the shape of an obelisk rising near 
the center. The green water, the reddish stone, 
the very deep lake surrounding the volcano, the 
vivid green of the vegetation, the blue sky with its 
huge white clouds, and the flash of sea gulls as 
they winged their way back and forth, made a 
picture the MacLarens were never to forget. It 
was so beautiful and peaceful, they could not think 
Taal might erupt, again spreading destruction. 
All they could think of was the scene in vivid color 
before them. 

Reluctantly they left, and never again would 
they have the feeling that they had always had at 
the thought of volcanoes. 

The fine roads back to Manila, like other roads 
of the islands, had been built since the American 
occupation, as the children well knew. The good 
schools, too, had been established by the Americans. 
Uncle Lee declared that Americans have always 
believed that the road to self-government lay 
through the schoolhouse. The United States Army 
began establishing modern schools in 1898. Within 
a year, more than forty-five hundred primary 
pupils were enrolled in the schools of Manila alone. 
By March, 1935, the public school students num¬ 
bered over a million. There were some seven thou- 



VOLCANOES 


269 



Ewing Galloway 

PLOWING A RICE FIELD WITH CARABAOS 

sand schools and twenty-seven thousand teachers 
and administrators, mostly Filipinos. Twenty per 
cent of the total expenditure of the islands went 
for schools. Everywhere, Uncle Lee explained, 
English was being taught, and soon it would be¬ 
come the language of the islands. 

Going back to Santa Cruz and Manila, through 
Los Banos, the car purred along fine roads through 
rice fields, banana plantations, coconut groves, and 
near sugar centrals. For a long way Mount Bana- 
hao could be seen standing majestically in the 
distance. 

Water buffaloes were invaluable to the Filipinos. 
Peter and Nancy saw many of them during their 
visit, for these animals were strong enough to 



270 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


plow and harrow and to draw great loads. They 
gave milk as cows do, and sometimes they fur¬ 
nished meat for the poor. 

Carabaos, as the natives called water buffaloes, 
Peter and Nancy knew were gentle creatures as 
a rule. They were fussy about only one thing. 
They demanded a bath several times a day, for 
they frequently wallowed in mud to get rid of 
mosquitoes and other insects. The MacLarens 
were to pause often in the next few days to watch 
carabaos bathing in canals or rivers while, their 
owners waited patiently on the banks for them. 

The MacLarens were glad to be back in their 
comfortable hotel in Manila. There was an air of 
excitement in the dining room as Uncle Lee con¬ 
versed with a mining expert. 

Prospectors for gold were combing the country 
and staking out claims. Scores of new mining 
companies with large capital subscriptions and 
paid-in capital were starting production in vari¬ 
ous localities. 

Uncle Lee declared that gold mining was mak¬ 
ing great strides in the islands, and that Benguet 
and Balatoc mines marked only the beginning of 
a great industry that would support thousands of 
people and eventually enrich thousands more, it 
was believed. 

“I think Uncle Lee would like a Philippine gold 
mine under his Christmas tree,” Nancy teased. 

“From what he says, Pd like one, too,” Peter 
decided. 



THE FLYING CLIPPER SHIP 


P ETER and Nancy had expected to be homesick 
as Christmas neared, but the warmth and 
beauty of the day, the golden starlight of the 
evening, and the gay atmosphere of the port glad¬ 
dened their hearts. The northeast trade winds 
seemed to be soft and gentle, but an “old timer” at 
the hotel remarked, “A typhoon can happen just 
the same. I remember one Christmas Day. There 
was just a little rain at first and a blowing, but 
before long the palm trees were bending to the 
ground with wind and rain lashing over them. 
Don’t let anyone tell you typhoons never come after 
November. I can feel one now in my bones.” 

That very evening the weather man agreed with 
the “old timer.” He said there was a typhoon in 
the offing but that Manila would catch only the edge 
of the storm. 

“And we’ll be up in Baguio,” Peter lamented. 

The Asiatic fleet, anchored off shore at Manila, 
shone almost as brightly at night as the golden 
stars in the sky. The Manila Hotel seemed to be 
the center of festivity, but Uncle Lee said the Army 
and Navy Club and the Polo Club would be even 
livelier. Little boats were constantly plying be¬ 
tween the ships in the bay and the shore. Dining 
in the midst of people in party mood, it was a 
“Merry Christmas!” wherever one went. 

271 


272 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Kaufman & Fabry 


THE MOTOR ROAD TO BAGUIO 


Early in the morning of what Nancy chose to 
call Christmas Eve Day, Uncle Lee, with Peter and 
Nancy and Jimmy Dustin, motored up to Baguio. 
He insisted that the children take sweaters and 
coats, for he declared they would be going from 
tropic palms to Christmas trees in climate. 

The road lay through the beautiful country of 
sugar-cane plantations and coconut groves. Then 
up and up purred the car along the Benguet Zigzag 
motor road, a road that twisted and made delight¬ 
ful horseshoe curves as it wound up the canyon. 
At the end of the road appeared the city of Baguio. 



THE FLYING CLIPPER SHIP 


273 



A STREET CORNER IN BAGUIO 

“I can smell Christmas trees already,” Nancy 
shouted. 

To Peter’s amazement, Baguio was more than a 
sport and health resort. It was a complete and 
perfect city. There was the fine Mansion House 
where government officials might think over their 
problems while Manila sweltered in the heat. There 
was a country club with a magnificent golf course. 
There was an observatory from which one might 
get a better view of the Southern Cross. There 
was Camp John Hay, one of the most beautiful 
Army Posts in the Philippines. There was Mount 








274 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Kaufman tC- Fabry 

AN IGOROT VILLAGE 

Santo Tomas from which visitors could look down 
on peaks, ridges, and valleys bathed in a purple 
mist and melting away into the China Sea. And 
there was even an Igorot village close by, so that, 
as Peter remarked, you could go slumming if you 
chose. 

Uncle Lee’s friends had a big, comfortable house 
full of guests. There was a fire in the grate, and 
the house was festooned with greens. Every vase 
in the rooms was full of flowers — roses, lilies, 
orchids, and azaleas. The servants of the house¬ 
hold had picked them the day before. Beneath the 



THE FLYING CLIPPER SHIP 


275 



OXCARTS ON A TRAIL IN THE PINE WOODS 


tall, sparkling Christmas tree in the living room 
Peter and Nancy discovered a brown paper parcel 
addressed in their mother’s familiar hand and 
postmarked from Minnesota. From home! Uncle 
Lee had brought it from the post office and had 
saved it for Christmas. For a moment Nancy 
fought back tears of homesickness. 

There were sizzling turkeys and molds of cran¬ 
berry jelly for Christmas dinner just as there would 
have been at home. 

The banquets, the drives, the tramps along the 
trails through the pine woods were so perfect that 





276 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


the hearts of the MacLaren children were full to 
overflowing with happiness. 

When it was all over and they were back in 
Manila, Jimmy said, “Sorry I can’t go back home 
on the China Clipper with you, but I have to pilot 
my plane home. Don’t act like jackaroos when the 
Clipper starts. She may limp on land, but she can 
fly like a bird in the air. Keep smiling.” 

A few days later Peter and Nancy found them¬ 
selves at Cavite aboard the big airship. Before 
they had gained an intimate view of the beautiful 
furnishings, the idling motors opened up. Towed 
slowly along on a wheeled cradle, the plane 
splashed out upon the sea, sending up spray. The 
motors began to roar as the plane rose from the 
water. In the air at last, homeward bound! The 
Clipper climbed in a wide arc, and down below 
Jimmy Dustin waved and waved. He became a 
tiny dot, and the city of Manila disappeared in a 
misty grayness, as the flying Clipper Ship leveled 
out upon its course. 

The sea was empty. The sky was empty. Yet 
there was no feeling of aloneness. There were 
thirty-two passengers on the ship, and a crew of 
five people, besides the load of mail and baggage. 

“This is the biggest airplane I ever saw,” said 
Peter. 

“Why, it’s just like rooms inside,” Nancy added. 

The passengers sat in big, cushioned chairs 
facing the center of the spacious room. At one 
side there was a table. 



THE FLYING CLIPPER SHIP 


277 



INTERIOR OF THE CHINA CLIPPER 


“People move about just as if they were at 
home,” Nancy remarked to Uncle Lee. 

After a while she and Peter walked back 
through the plane. In the next compartment sev¬ 
eral people already were eating luncheon at little 
tables set between comfortable, cushioned chairs. 
A trim, uniformed steward was serving them. 

“This certainly is something!” Peter reported 
to Uncle Lee, and Uncle Lee laughed. 

The China Clipper’s first stop was made at the 
island of Guam. The plane entered the water like 
an expert diver. It sailed into the slip while brown 
natives grinned down at it. 


Pan American Airways 




278 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Pan American Airways 

LUNCHEON IN THE AIR 

At Sumay, the Pan American Airways base, 
there was an inn where all the Clipper Ship’s pas¬ 
sengers spent the night. Peter and Nancy and 
Uncle Lee stood on the porch and watched brown 
native boys rolling big barrels along the shore. 
The barrels contained fuel for the Clipper Ships. 

Agana, the capital of Guam, was not much more 
than a main street with bank buildings, motion- 
picture theaters, supply shops, and a hotel. 

The next morning the Clipper and passengers 
were ready to take off for Wake Island. Before 
the Clipper Airships traveled across the Pacific, 







Ewing Galloway 


WAKE ISLAND 












280 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


not a soul had lived on Wake Island. Even now the 
air base where the Clipper landed looked very de¬ 
serted. It was just a few little frame houses sur¬ 
rounded by low trees and tropical shrubbery and 
marked by a tall flagpole flying the United States 
and Pan American flags. 

The pride of the island was a little railway that 
was used to carry supplies from the landing pier 
to the village. Perishable fruits and vegetables 
were brought in by the Clipper Ships themselves. 

Uncle Lee could hardly persuade either Peter or 
Nancy to leave the pier long enough to enjoy a good 
dinner at the hotel, the serving of which had been 
made possible by refrigerators that kept the fruits 
and vegetables fresh. 

At Midway Island there were neat yellow houses. 
Uncle Lee said these buildings had been shipped, 
ready to set up, from the United States. Prefabri¬ 
cated buildings were the only ones practicable. The 
furniture was of steel and the accommodations 
were modern, even to the hot water. 

Birds flew all over the island. They were called 
gooney birds but they were actually the Laysan 
albatross. They were black and white, with glossy 
coats, and they waddled duck-fashion, their long 
beaks clacking excitedly. Peter said he could not 
determine whether the gooneys were making fun 
of him or just trying to be sociable. 

After spending the night on Midway Island, the 
great Clipper Ship took off for Honolulu and the 
everlasting summer of the Hawaiian Islands. 



THE FLYING CLIPPER SHIP 


281 


Laysan, or Bird Island, was a natural bird habi¬ 
tation. The sea birds long ago chose this island 
as a home. People gathered the eggs for commer¬ 
cial purposes, and they killed the young birds, so 
the United States government finally established a 
bird sanctuary on the island. 

Flocks of birds followed the ships, perching on 
the mast from time to time. When the ships passed 
Laysan Island, the birds deserted them, going back 
to their kin on the island. 

Uncle Lee told Peter and Nancy that if they 
walked along the beach, they again would see 
thousands of birds fluttering at their feet. It 
would be hard not to step on them. They were 
tame, too. They would see ducks and gulls and 
fluffy terns and baby albatrosses with long wings. 
Plover were so common that they would seem to be 
raining down. 

It would be difficult to walk without stepping on 
the numberless eggs. Uncle Lee said that many 
of these eggs were gathered and shipped to Amer¬ 
ica to be used in making albumin for chemical 
products. 

At last Uncle Lee could shout, “Nearing Hono¬ 
lulu!” 

Peter and Nancy both were amazed at the moun¬ 
tainous appearance of the islands. 

“Maybe they look so high,” Nancy guessed, “be¬ 
cause we’ve been on the level water for so long.” 

White foam broke against the bronze-green 
shores. White clouds banked against the sky. 





282 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 


THE CHINA CLIPPER OVER PEARL HARBOR 

Over the naval air station the Clipper turned 
and started in toward the island. Lower and lower 
it flew. The motors were louder now, tuned to 
emergency or take-off positions, as they had been 
back in Manila. Down the plane glided. It flew 
over Pearl Harbor with Diamond Head in the 
background. Every one sat tight. For several 
seconds the Clipper hovered over the water. 
Splash! Water sprayed over the windows. 

The Clipper taxied in to shore and was towed to 
the dock. The hatch was opened, and as the Mac- 
Larens climbed out, flower lets were thrown about 
their necks, the welcome of the Hawaiians. 







SHOWER TREES AND PINEAPPLE RINGS 


F ROM the moment that Peter and Nancy had 
stepped down from the luxurious Clipper and 
had found their necks being encircled with leis of 
ginger blossoms, they knew that they were on 
friendly isles. Always the very word Hawaii was 
to bring to mind pictures of purple-blue mountains 
rising from emerald-green bases, snowy surf roll¬ 
ing in on yellow sands, and white wings of birds 
against a vivid sky. They sprawled on the beach 
at Waikiki, that delightful suburb of Honolulu 
where all the world enjoyed the glorious out-of- 
doors, and, through happy eyes, they watched the 
cars with hoods festooned in long chains of carna¬ 
tions and tuberoses. Their own car had been simi¬ 
larly draped. 

Uncle Lee sat under a sun umbrella, allowing 
his magazine to slip from his fingers. He was too 
content even to read. 

Peter asked, “Uncle Lee, do you think the na¬ 
tive Hawaiians were always gentle, smiling peo¬ 
ple? Or did they acquire their fine dispositions 
with Christianity?” 

“Aloha, which means greetings with love, ex¬ 
presses pretty well their natural friendliness,” 
Uncle Lee said. “I know of no other nation that 
welcomes strangers as do the Hawaiians. Even 
the word, Hawaiian, has the sound of ukulele 


283 


284 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

HAWAIIAN LEI GIRLS 

strings in it. I am glad the native name is used. 
Probably you know that when Captain Cook sighted 
the island of Kauai on January 18, 1778, he was 





SHOWER TREES AND PINEAPPLE RINGS 


285 


so delighted that he named his discovery after his 
good friend, the Earl of Sandwich. Later, the 
name of the group was changed to the Hawaiian 
Islands after the native name for the largest island 
in the group. There are five large islands, you 
know, and several small ones.” 

“Hawaii is the ‘Big Isle/ ” Nancy mused. “But 
it’s not so large as Connecticut at that. Next is 
Maui, the ‘Valley Isle.’ Then comes Oahu, on 
which Honolulu is situated and where we are now. 
Then—then Kauai, called the ‘Garden Isle’ be¬ 
cause of its unusual beauty, and—and—” 

“Molokai, the leper island,” Peter supplied, 
“where many lepers are being cured through the 
help of doctors from all over the world. There’s 
lots of deer hunting at Molokai. Let’s see. There’s 
Niihau and Lanai, too. Kahoolawe is the tiny one. 
A fellow told me that you could walk around it in 
a morning and explore it in a day.” 

“What happened after Captain Cook made his 
discovery, Uncle Lee?” put in Nancy. 

“The missionaries came in,” Uncle Lee re¬ 
sponded. “That, in itself, is quite a story. It 
seems that some native Hawaiian boys were 
brought into New England by some American 
whalers. This was in the early days, when the 
islands were still known as the Sandwich Islands. 
The good New Englanders, on learning of the god¬ 
lessness of the natives, straightway dispatched 
missionaries on a perilous journey around Cape 
Horn to see what they could accomplish in the 



286 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


islands. These missionaries were courageous 
young men and women whose descendants are man¬ 
aging the big sugar plantations and pineapple 
farms of today. You can imagine how surprised 
and delighted they were to find so fair a land and 
so kindly a people. Records say these missionaries 
found the islands inhabited by a handsome, semi- 
civilized race, a happy and kindly people, fond of 
music and the beauties of nature, but subject to a 
'peculiar and harsh form of religion/ How’s that 
for a quotation?” 

"What was the harsh religion?” Peter inquired. 

"It was a form of idolatry and taboo,” Uncle 
Lee explained. "Already the widow of the king 
who had just died had persuaded her people to 
give up these beliefs. When the missionaries came, 
the people were not only ready but eager for a new 
and better belief. The missionaries found, not 
only a heathen religion, but an unwritten language 
to cope with. They made records of this language, 
which had only twelve letters, and started to edu¬ 
cate the people. In 1893 the people of the islands 
rebelled against Queen Liliuokalani and set up 
their own government. It was upon their own 
request, in 1898 — during William McKinley’s ad¬ 
ministration — that Hawaii became a territory of 
the United States.” 

"Governed like the Philippines,” Peter remarked. 

"Not exactly!” Uncle Lee’s voice was dry. "The 
Hawaiian Islands are a real part of the United 
States.” 





SHOWER TREES AND PINEAPPLE RINGS 


287 


Uncle Lee explained, looking right at Peter, “The 
Hawaiian Islands have a governor appointed by 
the President of the United States. He is not elected 
by the people. They have a legislature of two 
houses and a voteless representative in Congress. 
Most important, the Hawaiian Islands are part of 
the United States by voluntary treaty.” 

Peter and Nancy sighed, and Uncle Lee laughed. 

“Pm glad they are part of us. I suppose that’s 
why they call us ‘mainlanders,’ ” said Nancy. “It 
seemed so funny at first to have people ask, 'Are 
you a ‘mainlander’?’ Well, I wouldn’t mind being 
a native-born Hawaiian-American. There isn’t a 
drawback in all the islands.” 

“Except volcanoes,” Peter supplied. 

“The Hawaiian Islands are all volcanic in 
origin,” Uncle Lee admitted. “You see, some of 
the Pacific Islands rise from the sea as a result of 
long years of coral accretions. But the Hawaiian 
Islands are really the tops of volcanic mountains, 
although they have coral reefs. They are almost 
perfect as to climate, warmth, and abundant rain¬ 
fall. There is no lack of growing space. 

“Trade winds bring rain to the eastern slope 
of the mountains, and in some places water is 
piped over to the drier slopes. But the Hawai- 
ians have few irrigation problems. They have lit¬ 
tle worry about anything. As you’ll notice, most 
of the labor in the sugar and pineapple industries 
is done by Japanese and Filipinos. The machinery 
in some of the factories is so efficient that business 



288 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

SURF-RIDING 


executives come from Java and Brazil and Cuba 
just to study the sugar-extracting machines. ,, 

“And getting back to volcanoes?” Peter was per¬ 
sistent. 

Uncle Lee squinted at a graceful figure on a surf¬ 
board riding a wave, and he smiled at a boy under 
a feathery-leaved algarroba tree at the edge of the 
beach before he answered Peter. 

“Even the volcanoes have a way with them here,” 
he mused. “In this land of sunshine and fresh, 
clean breezes with its perfumed air, the volcanoes 
seldom become violent. At intervals the lava rises 
slowly in the craters. Sometimes it overflows or 







SHOWER TREES AND PINEAPPLE RINGS 


289 



Ewing Galloway 

WAIKIKI BEACH 


forces its way through cracks and down the slopes. 
In some cases lava even reaches the sea. Well, shall 
we plunge into the surf again?” 

Peter and Nancy got to their feet with alacrity. 
They looked out on the tawny sands that stretched 
in a vast semicircle. The surf was all pearls and 
diamonds. The ocean was turquoise and emerald 
and sapphire, in bands of color. The water, as they 
ran into it, was just right, warm enough to be 
comfortable, cool enough to be stimulating. And 
now beach boys were parading up and down in 
funny costumes. In the evening they would sing 





290 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


in the wooden pavilion. Babies toddled into the 
water. Hawaiian girls dived, their long black hair 
floating out like banners. People laughed and 
played in the surf. Uncle Lee shouted even more 
gaily than all the rest. 

Driving back along the lovely streets of Hono¬ 
lulu, Peter and Nancy exclaimed continually, for 
all the world like ordinary tourists who had never 
been anywhere. At least so Uncle Lee said. But 
even Uncle Lee remarked that here was an earthly 
paradise. Stately mansions were common, man¬ 
sions with exquisite gardens. But even the tiniest 
bungalow, often with green shutters and white 
clapboards, glistened with fresh paint and was 
quite as apt to have a velvety lawn and a garden of 
oleanders, lilies, roses, and heliotrope as was the 
mansion. Blush roses and gardenias grew in as 
riotous profusion as dandelions at home. Nancy 
could never quite accustom herself to seeing whole 
hedges of night-blooming cereus that would open 
their white fragrant petals for one night only. 

Most enchanting of all were the flowering trees 
on the wide streets. Such colors and such fra¬ 
grance, such beautifully descriptive names — 
golden shower, pink shower, and rainbow shower, 
the latter not the color of a rainbow in the sky, but 
the colors of all the other shower trees combined. 
The royal poincianas were as scarlet as the velvet 
in the coronation robe of King George VI. Then 
there was red and purple bougainvillea, climbing 
everywhere like wild cucumber vines on the farm. 



SHOWER TREES AND PINEAPPLE RINGS 


291 


How those first missionaries, who built that plain, 
square church of coral stone, must have rejoiced 
at the flowers! 

Uncle Lee drove all along King Street, and 
finally he swung around to the fish market where 
almost every kind of tropical fish was for sale. 
Peter proudly pointed out other sea food such as 
squid, and sea urchins, while Nancy chose the more 
common crabs, lobsters, and shrimps. 

Leaving the market, Uncle Lee again drove 
through the city and followed the road to the Punch 
Bowl. 

“Punch Bowl! What a funny name!” Nancy 
exclaimed. 

The Punch Bowl proved to be an old volcanic 
crater guarding Honolulu. All around it grew 
flame-colored poincianas and lavender jacarandas, 
and within it a modern athletic field had been 
built. 

“Take your choice, Peter,” Uncle Lee cried, with 
an expansive wave of his hand. “Football! Base¬ 
ball ! Track! Or tennis!” 

In a rice field near by carabaos plowed in the 
sticky mud. Uncle Lee turned the car into the 
country where waving fields of sugar cane and 
broad acres of spiny pineapples ripened in the sun. 
Peter and Nancy never before had realized how 
much work there was even to the planting of pine¬ 
apples. At one of the farms a worker showed the 
MacLarens what was being done. Strips of chemi¬ 
cally treated paper, two feet wide, were laid over 



292 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Philip D. Gendreau 

HARVESTING PINEAPPLES 

the soil in straight rows. The land already had 
been prepared and was as smooth and even as any 
flower garden the children ever had seen. 

At regular intervals small holes had been bored 
in the paper strips. Through these holes the pine¬ 
apple slips were planted. 

“That’s the only crop I ever saw that was planted 
through paper,” Peter declared. “Why is it done?” 

“The paper,” Uncle Lee explained, “decreases 
the evaporation, thus keeping in all the available 
moisture for the plants to use. It keeps out weeds 
and insects, and it stimulates growth. Nowhere 
will you find such pineapples. Six months after 
the plant blooms, you will see the perfect, ripe 






SHOWER TREES AND PINEAPPLE RINGS 


293 



Ewing Galloway 


CUTTING SUGAR CANE 


pineapple. Sugar cane has a longer season, eight¬ 
een months from the date of planting.” 

“Pineapple is only the second most important 
crop in Hawaii,” Uncle Lee offered. “The first is 
sugar cane.” 

Uncle Lee’s statement brought on a smiling con¬ 
versation with the pineapple grower. The men 
talked of how the cane was cut down and carried 
on cars from the fields to the mills. The brown or 
crude sugar then was transported by rail from 
the mill to the nearest shipping point. 

“From there it is sent to be refined in the United 
States,” Uncle Lee concluded. 




294 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Philip D. Gendreau 

CANNING PINEAPPLES 

“Pineapple, however,” Nancy put in, “is ready 
to eat when it leaves Hawaii.” 

“Right you are,” Uncle Lee agreed. “We’re 
going to visit a cannery in the morning.” 

The visit was a much greater adventure than 
Peter and Nancy had anticipated. It was, in fact, 
one of their pleasantest experiences in Honolulu. 

They saw the pineapples shorn of their prickly 
stem ends. They saw the complicated machines 
peeling and slicing the fruit. Fascinated, they 
watched the immaculate workers in their white 





SHOWER TREES AND PINEAPPLE RINGS 


295 


caps and uniforms checking every piece of pine¬ 
apple for defects. Slices and slices and slices of 
dripping mellow fruit passed along to be tinned, 
sealed, labeled, and packed for shipment. 

At the invitation of the factory manager, Peter 
and Nancy tasted sliced pineapple, and shredded 
pineapple, and pineapple tidbits, pineapple mar¬ 
malade, and pineapple preserve. It was all amaz¬ 
ingly good. 

The factory itself was more like a welfare center 
than a place of labor. There was a large recreation 
field, including a playground in charge of a kinder¬ 
garten teacher. Working mothers left the children 
in her charge, and she saw to it that they were well 
fed and well cared for. There was a nurse in 
charge of a hospital. There were lockers, rest 
rooms, and showers. Two thousand people could 
be seated at one time in the cafeteria that served 
meals at the small cost of from five to thirty cents. 

On Christmas Day the employees had enjoyed a 
turkey dinner followed by music and the giving 
of presents. All had entered into the spirit of the 
Christian celebration of Christmas, and they were 
still in a glow over the good time they had had. 

“No race problem here, and no labor problem,” 
Uncle Lee pointed out. “Hawaiians, Porto Ricans, 
Filipinos, Japanese, Chinese, Koreans, and Euro¬ 
peans, all working amicably. It is an earthly 
paradise.” 

And Peter and Nancy agreed. 



ALOHA OE 


E VERY home in Honolulu seemed to have a 
great lanai or outdoor living room; and, 
wherever Uncle Lee’s letters of introductions car¬ 
ried him, there was much feasting. Fresh pine¬ 
apple and crisp watermelon and fresh figs were 
just ordinary items on elaborate menus, sometimes 
served in the lanai and sometimes in stately dining 
rooms. Peter and Nancy had both learned to like 
the staple native dish, poi, made of the root of the 
taro, boiled, rolled and kneaded, and tasting, at 
first, like sour dough. But, as Peter said, the taste 
grew on one like the taste for olives. Uncle Lee 
observed that none of the party had to learn to 
like breadfruit. Peter and Nancy were very fond 
of it, and the native variety here was as good as 
the best Jersey sweet potato. 

The MacLarens heard much of the banquets of 
the old days. There were the feasts of Kalakaua, 
the last king, famous partly because he made a trip 
around the world. And there were the well-remem¬ 
bered feasts of Queen Liliuokalani, the last of the 
Hawaiian queens. Her house, a white-pillared 
mansion, set in a beautiful garden, was now the 
Executive Mansion and it very fitly was called 
Washington Place. 

Many of Uncle Lee’s acquaintances had more 
than one home. A pineapple manager lived on 


296 


ALOHA OE 


297 



Ewing Galloway 

THE LANAI OE OUTDOOR LIVING ROOM 

Tantalus, the mountain back of Honolulu, and he 
also had a home on one of the other islands. 

There was always music and dancing at the par¬ 
ties. Peter and Nancy never could quite get used 
to the manner of beginning the entertainments. 
The performers would sit in silence for some time, 
looking very happy and fresh in their white clothes 
and with flowers in their hair. Then one would 
begin to dance and sing. Another would join in, 
and still another, until the only ones remaining 
seated were the musicians playing their stringed 
instruments. One evening at dinner some small 
girls danced the native hula dance. Their heads 
and ankles were wreathed with flowers, and their 





298 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

THE HULA DANCERS 

full skirts were made of ti leaves, cut into narrow 
strips. The dance was full of grace and movement 
and beauty. 

The MacLarens found many treats in store. One 
day they were invited to a luau, or native feast. It 
was to be given on a pineapple plantation. 

On arriving, Peter made straight for the under¬ 
ground oven, which was covered with heavy bags 
and ti leaves. He had seen similar cooking in a 
northern Minnesota lumber camp, where beans 
were buried in an iron kettle in a heated pit, then 
taken out and served, piping hot, for breakfast. 





ALOHA OE 


299 


Out of this oven, however, came nothing so simple 
as bean-hole beans. Fish wrapped in ti leaves, 
potatoes in their skins, stewed chicken, and roast 
pig! On the table were dishes of poi, relishes of 
raw fish, onion and tomato, shredded seaweed, and 
a sweet made partly of coconut meat. The dessert 
was watermelon cut in great wedges. 

“By the way, we’re driving around the whole 
island of Oahu in the morning, for I want you to 
see something besides Honolulu, glamorous as it 
is,” announced Uncle Lee. 

“That will be wonderful, Uncle Lee,” Nancy de¬ 
cided and ran to tell Peter, who was learning, from 
a native Hawaiian, how to eat poi with his fingers. 

The morning was one of those sunny but refresh¬ 
ing mornings that the MacLarens were beginning 
to take for granted in Honolulu. Uncle Lee drove 
slowly into the country in the car, pointing out the 
pineapple plantations on the high land and the 
sugar cane on the low. Small patches of rice 
alternated with patches of taro and other garden 
produce. 

In a native village they saw men and women 
weaving the mats for which Hawaii is noted. 

A group of modern buildings came in view. 
Planes were humming overhead and boats were at 
anchor in the harbor. 

Uncle Lee announced, with a rolling of his 
tones, “Schofield Barracks! The largest army 
reservation of the United States. Over there is 
the Pearl Harbor Naval Base.” Then he went on 



300 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

WEAVING MATS 

to explain. “Congress voted to establish this naval 
base in 1908.” With a flourish he gestured toward 
the big, gray ships in the landlocked harbor and 
the planes above. “Hawaii is the strategic key to 
our possessions in the Pacific. Those planes are 
from Luke Field—the flying field located on Ford 
Island in this same harbor. See it over there? And 
remember, the idea here is service, not war! This 
base keeps an eye on ships in distress and goes to 
their assistance when necessary. It watches to 
see that no Oriental disease is in any way brought 
into the mainland. If there were an earthquake 






ALOHA OE 


301 



THE PALI 

or a tidal wave, the crew would go to aid the help¬ 
less or unfortunate.” 

After about a fifteen-minute drive from the city 
of Honolulu, climbing steadily out of the beautiful 
Nuuanu Valley, the MacLarens came upon the 



302 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


island’s most magnificent view. Uncle Lee stopped 
the car. 

“There’s the Pali,” he announced. 

They climbed out of the car and walked over to 
the low wall guarding the edge of the road. There 
was a terrific wind blowing through the pass. 

“Hold on to your hats!” Uncle Lee shouted. 

Peter and Nancy stared down at the precipice. 
It was, Uncle Lee said, something over twelve 
hundred feet high. It was over this cliff that the 
conqueror, Kamehameha, drove the army of the 
king of Oahu. Peter’s eyes were wide with un¬ 
belief and amazement as he recalled the story. 
Nancy said briefly, “That’s what war is!” 

Back in the car once more, Uncle Lee made a 
sharp turn. Presto! There was now no more 
to be seen of the south side of the island. The on¬ 
lookers were staring down on the windward side 
with its coastal plain, its massed mountains rising 
up from the plain, and the sparkling sea below. 
The sudden change of direction had given them a 
new picture. 

“What kind of bushes are those on the plain?” 
Peter asked curiously as he stared at the dark 
growth. 

“Jelly bushes.” Uncle Lee laughed. “I mean 
wild guava bushes. Notice the rice and the sugar¬ 
cane fields, and the pineapples.” 

The road led down the mountains in a winding 
path, on and on and on. But eventually Uncle Lee 
turned the car homeward. 



ALOHA OE 


303 



KILAUEA VOLCANO 

“Tomorrow,” he announced, “we’ll visit the vol¬ 
cano Kilauea.” 

“That means a boat trip,” Peter observed 
promptly, “because Kilauea is not on Oahu but on 
Hawaii. That will be exciting.” 

The night voyage on an inter-island boat was 

rather rough. , , 

“We’ll live on the edge of the volcano for a lew 
days,” Uncle Lee announced, and Peter, looking at 
Nancy, was not quite sure whether or not Uncle 

Lee was joking. x , . ,, 

The hotel, called Volcano House, stood at the 
very edge of Kilauea crater. From its rim the 




304 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Lionel Green 

THE PERN-BORDERED ROAD 

MacLarens looked out across shiny black lava 
hardened in waves and crevices and, now and then, 
in strange, twisted shapes. Occasionally narrow 
jets of steam escaped through small holes in the 
crater’s floor. 

“How big it is!” Nancy gasped. 

“You could drop a fair-sized Minnesota farm in 
it,” said Peter. 

“Over there,” said Uncle Lee pointing away in 
the distance, “is the famous lake of fire. They 
say the level of the lake changes constantly. When 



ALOHA OE 


305 


it is high, the lava flows over, and when the bottom 
falls out, it erupts great clouds of dust and steam 
and rains tiny pebbles and cinders that sound like 
hailstones on the top of automobiles going down 
the mountain.” 

“Isn’t it exciting, Peter?” Nancy shivered. 

Nancy had not expected to see flowers near a 
volcano, and she could scarcely believe her eyes 
when she saw giant ferns at the edge of the road¬ 
ways and extending far back into a jungle. On 
the hotel table appeared hibiscus and flowering 
ginger, and, in Nancy’s simple room, were wild 
orchids. 

Uncle Lee took Peter and Nancy on many short 
excursions into Hawaiian National Park, of which 
the volcano was a part. They saw lovely cascades 
of water tumbling over high banks. In the dis¬ 
tance there was always Mauna Kea with double 
rainbows over its snow-capped head. 

Uncle Lee, after much careful planning, ar¬ 
ranged a trip from Kilauea, with its heart of fire, 
to that lovely, elusive mountain, Mauna Loa. The 
trip on horseback, with a guide and his wife, led 
at first over immense fields of lava rock. Then, 
as the party pressed on, tree ferns and flowers be¬ 
gan to appear among the rocks. Trees rose higher, 
and fairy glens appeared as if by magic. 

The party rode slowly and delightedly through 
the famous Bird Forest. The guide said it was a 
bird sanctuary. The MacLarens were familiar 
with most of the birds. In the giant koa trees 



306 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


Peter pointed out myna and rice birds. Nancy 
laughed with delight when a pheasant flew out of 
the brush and a wild turkey strutted into a clear¬ 
ing. Thrushes sang, and a long, slim mongoose, 
enemy of the rodent, slid across the trail. A wild 
deer crashed through the brush just at sunset, but 
the party did not see any of the wild pigs and wild 
goats that the guide insisted lived in the forest. 

Mauna Loa lifted its head 13,675 feet above the 
sea and into the brilliant blue sky. After a good 
rest and a night’s sleep in camp, the party rode the 
winding trail that led to the extinct volcano. 

Wild Hawaiian berries grew along the way. 
Peter wanted to stop and pick some of them, but 
Nancy was anxious to go on, as the guide pointed 
out the varying colors and the sparkle of gold and 
silver in some of the lava formations. 

Returning to the Kona coast Uncle Lee took 
Peter and Nancy to visit the once happy village of 
Hoopuloa. This village had been buried beneath 
the hot flow of lava from Mauna Loa. It was a 
terrible tragedy, as great as that of Vesuvius when 
it destroyed Pompeii. Staring up at the now 
peaceful Mauna Loa, it was hard for Peter and 
Nancy to visualize such a tragic happening. 

And now the guide led the way into the Puna 
district to show the MacLarens the grass houses. 
The guide’s wife promised that they would be very 
pretty. 

“There weren’t any mansions—not so much as 
a bungalow—when Captain Cook arrived on these 



ALOHA OE 


307 



Publishers’ Photo Service 

AN OLD HAWAIIAN VILLAGE OF GRASS HOUSES 

shores,” the guide told them. “Look well at the 
grass houses now. When you come again, the island 
may be too civilized to boast of a grass house. In 
fact, there are only a few left now.” 

The grass houses proved to be mere shacks, but 
they were lovely. They were covered with flower¬ 
ing vines. Around them grew begonias, cereus, 
and oleanders. Surrounded with flowers as in a 
bower, they looked like fairy-story houses. Even 
the little gardens of yams and bananas and taro 
were picturesque. 








308 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 



Ewing Galloway 

A BANANA FIELD NEAR HONOLULU 

Back at Hilo Uncle Lee took Peter and Nancy on 
board an inter-island-cruise ship for their last 
cruise before returning to Honolulu for the home 
voyage. 

The island of Maui, the Valley Island, soon ap¬ 
peared, verdant and friendly. The boat docked at 
Kahului, a city of streets with flowering trees, and 
homes with flowering gardens. Hedges and rows 
of night-blooming cereus perfumed the warm fresh 
air. And near the quaint homes with their lovely 
gardens was a very modern flying field. 

Along the country roads grew breadfruit trees, 
while back of them rose tree ferns and banana 



ALOHA OE 


309 


plants and tall palms. At every bend in the road 
there could be seen avocados, guava, and papaya, 
while among the tree trunks the iaia vines twined 
like ropes. On the slopes the MacLarens were 
astounded to see the rare silver sword plant, a 
native of the Himalayas. 

“Want to see the House of the Sun?” Uncle 
Lee inquired as he slowed his car after a long trip 
among lovely roads. 

“We’ve seen mansions and bungalows and grass 
houses,” Nancy observed. “Of course we’d like to 
.see the House of the Sun.” 

At the end of a long drive, Uncle Lee turned the 
car over to an innkeeper who sent for a guide. 
The guide brought horses and provisions for a 
mountain climb. 

Peter and Nancy followed Uncle Lee on horse¬ 
back to the top of a mountain, a mountain named 
Haleakala, which he said was the world’s largest 
extinct volcano. On the crater’s edge stood a stone 
house, built by the United States Government as a 
shelter and place of refreshment. 

“House of the Sun, I suppose,” Nancy guessed, 
but Uncle Lee shook his head. 

He led Nancy to the crater’s edge where Peter 
was already standing beside the guide, staring 
down into the immensity below. 

“That crater is twenty miles in circumference,” 
he explained to Nancy, “and it is two thousand 
feet deep. Because of its size it’s called the House 
of the Sun.” 



310 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


The view was breath taking. A hundred miles 
away Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa loomed up over 
a sea of verdure. 

Although Maui was an island of sugar and pine¬ 
apples in so far as exports were concerned, the 
MacLarens feasted their eyes on forests, moun¬ 
tains, waterfalls, and grassy plains. Such rarely 
beautiful scenery they had never seen in all their 
travels. On the fertile sides of the high cliffs grew 
candlenut shrubs. Needle Peak, with its cascades 
of snowy water, looked like one of those unbeliev¬ 
able scenes on post cards. 

The boat next anchored at Kaunakakai on the 
island of Molokai, the leper island. There were 
no public hotels on the island, but the MacLarens 
were allowed to land. The buildings that housed 
the lepers were all very modern. Peter and Nancy 
learned, to their amazement, that the disease of 
leprosy was not painful and that patients strove 
as nearly as possible to live normal lives. They 
went to school, to church, and to movies right on 
their own island home. Many were being cured 
and they then were allowed to return home. 

“And the beginning of all this was due to Father 
Damien of Belgium,” Peter declared. 

Peter loved the story of Father Damien who, 
upon learning that there was no one to care for 
them, left his home to work among the lepers of the 
Hawaiian Islands. After sixteen years of service, 
the good Father, too, was stricken with leprosy. 
He died, but his good work went on. 



ALOHA OE 


311 



Ewing Galloway 


THE BARKING SANDS OF KAUAI 

The MacLarens touched back at Honolulu, but 
only to pick up their mail before the boat took them 
on another island trip, this time to Ahukini on the 
island of Kauai. 

They found the name Garden Isle a truly typical 
one for the island. It was a place of exquisite glens, 
magnificent canyons, wild peaks, and beautiful 
waterfalls. Waimea Canyon, with its fascinating 
colored rocks, was much like the Grand Canyon 
back home. 

Beyond Waimea Uncle Lee turned toward the 
beach. Here at Mana, where the low sand hills 
ran parallel to the windy sea, the MacLarens got 
out of their car. Uncle Lee said, “Come along,” 
as he strode ahead along the beach. The children 
followed, eager for the next adventure. 




312 


PETER AND NANCY IN AUSTRALIA 


“Uncle Lee!” Nancy ran to catch up with her 
uncle. “Uncle Lee! Do you hear what I hear?” 

“Sounds like a lot of yapping dogs, barking at 
our heels,” Peter shouted breathlessly. “But I 
don’t see a single one.” 

“You’re hearing the Barking Sands of Kauai,” 
Uncle Lee said quietly. 

Peter and Nancy laughed at themselves, for 
Uncle Lee had once told them of the barking sands. 
In their excitement they had forgotten. 

For the moment the barking had ceased. Then, 
as the three walked along, the barking began again. 

“What makes the sands bark?” Peter inquired. 

“It’s our weight on the sands,” Uncle Lee ex¬ 
plained. “You see the free blowing of the wind 
has caused air pockets all through the sand. When 
we press down with our feet, we compress the air. 
When we lift our feet, the air escapes. The escap¬ 
ing air is what resembles the bark of a dog. Want 
to see another freak of nature?” 

“We certainly do,” Peter and Nancy agreed. 

“Remember,” said Uncle Lee, “that you will be 
looking at the Spouting Horn of Kola.” 

A little later Peter and Nancy were staring at 
jets of water that seemed to be spouting from rocks 
near the shore. Actually they were caused by the 
force of the sea water against the rocks. And this 
was the Spouting Horn of Kola, so fantastic to see 
and so easy to explain. 

Returning to Honolulu, they went again to 
Waikiki Beach. Peter scarcely could be persuaded 



ALOHA OE 


313 



XU winy uimyw/wj/ 


FAREWELL TO HAWAII 


to leave his surfboard riding nor Nancy her swim¬ 
ming. She was learning the Australian crawl, 
she insisted. 

Evening fell. The air was warm and fragrant. 
In the blue heavens the Southern Cross shone. 

“Tomorrow,” Uncle Lee said, “we’ll be home¬ 
ward bound. It will be a long time before we see 
the Southern Cross again.” 

“Aloha Oe,” sang Nancy softly. 

“Aloha Oe,” Peter joined in, as Uncle Lee smiled 

at both of them. 











































PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY 


PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY 


KEY: a as ate; a as senate; & as add; a as arm; d as care; a as ask; 
e as eve; 8 as event; 8 as find; e as maker; I as ice; i as Ill; o as old; 6 as 
Obey; 6 as for; 6 as odd; oo as food; do as foot; ou as out; oi as oil; ow as 
cow; u as cube; u as unite; A as ftir; A as tip; ng as sing; zh as z in azure; 
n as a nasal ng; fh as in the. 


abaca (a'ba-ca') 
aborigine (ab'o-rlj'I-ne) 
acacia (a-ka'sha) 

Adelaide (dd'8-lad) 

Agana (a-gan'ya) 

Agusan (a-gdo'san) 

Ahukini (a-hoo-ke'ne) 
albatross (dl'ba-trds) 

Albay (al-bi') 
algarroba (dl'gd-ro'ba) 
aloha oe (a-lo'ha o'a) 

Aotearoa (ou'ta-a-ro'a) 

Apia (a-pe'a) 

Arahura (a'ra-hoo'ra) 

Archibald (ar'chl-bold) 

Auckland (ok'l&nd) 

Augustinian (6'gfts-tin'I-dn) 
Australia (os'tral'ya) 

Australian Alps (os-tral'yan alps) 
Avon (a'viin) 

Awakino (a/wa-ke'no) 

Bagobo (ba-go'bo) 

Baguio (ba'gd-o') 

Baiame (ba-e-am'8) 

Bajau (ba-jou') 

Balatoc (b&l'a-tdk) 

Bali (ba'IS) 
bali (ba-ll') 

Ballarat (b&l'a-r&t) 
bamboo (barn-boo') 

Banaue (ba-nou'a) 
banca (bang'ka) 
bancero (bang-ka'ro) 

Banjermasin (ban'jer-ma'sln) 
banyan (ban'yan) 


baobab (ba'6-bdb) 

Bass Strait (bas strat) 

Batangas (ba-tang'gas) 

Batara Goeroe (ba-ta'ra gfi'rd) 
Batavia (ba-ta'vi-a) 
batik (ba't8k) 

Batman (b&t'man) 

Bawan (ba-wang') 
begonia (b8-go'n!-a) 

Bendigo (bgn'dl-go) 

Benguet (ben-ggt') 

Bernhardt, Sarah (sar'a bgrn'hart) 
betel (be't’l) 

Bicol (bg-kol') 

Bilibid (bll'i-bid') 
billabong (bll'a-bdng') 

Bohol (b6-hol') 
bolo (bo'lo) 

Bondi (bon'dl) 

Borneo (bor'ng-o) 

Boro Budur (bo'ro' boo-door') 
bougainvillaea (bbb'gln-vll'g-a) 
Brazil (bra-zll') 

Brazilian (bra-zll'y&n) 

Brisbane (briz'ban) 

Bromo (bro'mo) 

Broome (broom) 

Brunei (broo-nl') 

Bryce, Viscount (vi'kount' bris) 
Buba (boo'ba) 

Buddhist (bood'Ist) 

Bukidnon (boo-ked'non) 
bunya-bunya (bun'ya-bim'ya) 
buri (boo-re') 

Byzantine (bl-z&n'tln) 


PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY 


317 


Canada (k&n'a-da) 

Canberra (k&n'ber-a) 

Canterbury (k&n'ter-b6r'I) 
Capetown (kap'toun') 
carabao (ka'ra-ba'o) 

Carnegie (kar-na'gl) 
carromata (kar'r6-ma'ta) 
cassowary (kas'6-wSr'i) 

Castlemaine (kas'’l-man) 
Castlereagh (kas'd-ra') 

Cavite (ka-ve'ta) 

Cebu (sa-bob') 

Celebes (s6l'S-bez) 
eereus (se'rS-iis) 

Childers (chll'derz) 

Christchurch (krist-church) 
cinchona (sin-ko'na) 
cockatoo (kSk-a-too') 
cogon (k6-gon') 

Coolgardie (kool-gar'di) 
Cootamundra (koo'ta-miin'dra) 
copra (kQp'ra) 
carroboree (k6-r6b'S-r£) 

Culion (koo-lyon') 

Cumberland (kum'ber-l&nd) 
Czechoslovakia (ch6k'o-sl6-va'ki-a) 

Damien, Father (da'my&N') 
Dandenong (d&n'd6-n6ng) 

Darwin (dar'wln) 
dato (da'td) 

Davao (da'vou) 

Derwent (dur'wSnt) 

Dewey (du'I) 

Diego, Father (d6-a'go) 
dubu (doo'ba) 

Dumaguete (doo'ma-ga'ta) 
Dunedin (diin-e'dln) 
durian (doo'rI-&n) 

Edinburgh (8d'In-bii-rii) 

El Dorado (61 d6-ra'do) 

Ellerslie (Sl'lejz-li) 
emu (e'mu) 


esplanade (Ss'pla-nad') 

Europe (u'rup) 

fale (fa'la) 

Fawkner (fok'ner) 

Fialelei (fe-a-la'la'e) 

Fiji (fe'je) 

Fijian (fe-je'&n) 

Filipino (fil'I-pe'no) 

Fiordland (fyord'l&nd) 
fita-fita (fe'ta-fe'ta) 

Fort de Kock (fort de k6k') 

Fort San Pedro (fort san pa'dro) 
Fort Santiago (fort san'te-a'go) 
frangipani (frSn'ji-p&n'i) 

Franz Josef (frants jo'zSf) 
Fujiyama (foo'je-ya'ma) 

gamelan (giim'6-lan) 

Gloucester (glSs'ter) 
gobong (go'bong) 

Gothic (g6th'Ik) 

Grecian (gre'sh&n) 

Greenwich (grln'Ij) 

Guam (gwam) 
guava (gwa'va) 

Hauraki (ha-oo-ra'k6) 

Hawaii (ha-wi'e) 

Hawaiki (ha'wa-e'ke) 
hibiscus (hi-bis'kiis) 

Hilo (he'lo) 

Hindu (hin'doo) 

Hobart (ho'bert) 

Honolulu (ho'n6-ldo'ldo) 
hulu (hoo'la) 

Hyde (hid) 

Ifugao (e'foo-ga'6) 

Igorot (e'go-rot') 
iguana (I-gwa'na) 

Iloilo (e'16-e'lo) 

Invercargill (In'ver-kar'gll) 

Ionic (i-Sn'ik) 



318 


PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY 


Ireland (ir'l&nd) 

Italian (I-t&l'y&n) 

Iwahig (e-wa'heg) 

jacaranda (jak'a-r&n'da) 
jackaroo (jak'a-roo') 

Japan (ja-p^n') 

Japanese (j&p'a-nez') 

Java (ja'va) 

Javanese (j&v'a-nez') 

Jenolan (jgn'o-l&n) 

Jesuit (jgz'u-It) 

Jokyakarta (j6k'ya-kar'ta) 

Jolo (h.6-16') 
jusi (hoo'se) 

Kadok (ka'dbk) 

Kahoolawe (ka'hoo-la'we) 
Kahului (ka'hoo-loo'e) 

Kalakaua (ka'la-kou'a) 

Kalgoorlie (k&l-goor'li) 
Kamehameha (ka-ma'ha-ma'ha) 
kampong (kam-p6ng') 
kangaroo (k&ng'ga-roo') 

Kauai (ka/do-a'e) 

Kaunakakai (ka'do-na-ka'ka-6) 
kauri (kou'r!) 
kava (ka'va) 
kikori (k6-ko'r!) 

Kilauea (ke'lou-a'a) 
kiwi (ke'wl) 
koala (ko-a'la) 

Koningsplein (kd'nlngs-plan') 
kookaburra (kdok'a-biir'a) 

Korean (k6-re'&n) 

Kupe (koo'pa) 

Kurru-Kurru (kdor'rdo-kdo'roo) 

Laguna de Bay (la-gbo'na da bay) 
Lanai (la-na'e) 

Las Pinas (las pen'yas) 

Launceston (lan'sSs-tiin) 
lava-lava (la'va-la'va) 

Laysan (la'e-san) 


lei (la'6) 

Levuka (la-voo'ka) 

Leyte (la'ta) 
liana (le-a'na) 

Los Banos (los ba'nyos) 
luau (loo-a'oo) 

Luneta (loo-na'ta) 

Luzon (loo-z6n') 

Mackay (m&-ki') 

Mactan (mak-tan') 

Madras (ma-dras') 

Magallanes (ma'ga(l)-ya'nas) 
maguey (mag'wa) 

Malacanang (mal-a-can-yang') 
Malay (ma-la') 

Malayan (ma-la'3,n) 

Mallee (mai'e) 
mana (ma'na) 

Mandaya (man-da'ya) 
mangrove (mSng'grov) 

Manila (ma-nll'a) 

Manobo (ma-no'bo) 

Manukau (ma'noo-ka'oo) 
Maori (ma'6-ri) 

Masbate (mas-ba'ta) 

Maui (ma'do-e) 

Mauna Kea (mou'na ka'a) 
Mauna Loa (mou'na lo'a) 
Melanesia (mel'a-ne'shi-a) 
Melba (mgl'ba) 

Melbourne (mgl'bern) 

Mercer (mur'ser) 

Merino (me-re'no) 

Mindanao (min'da-na'o) 
Minotaur (min'o-tor) 
Mohammedan (m6-ham'g-dan) 
Molokai (mo'l6-ka'6) 

Molonglo (mo-l6n'glo) 
mongoose (mbng'goos) 
Monstera deliciosa (mSn'ster-a 
da'le-syo'sa) 

Moreton (mor't’n) 

Moro (mo'ro) 



PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY 


319 


Mount Apo (a'po) 

Mount Banahao (ba-na'hou) 
Mount Buffalo (btif'a-lo) 

Mount Eden (e'd’n) 

Mount Egmont (Sg'mdnt) 
Mount Lofty (lSf'tl) 

Mount Mariveles (ma're-va'las) 
Mount Mayon (ma-yon') 
Mount Pioa (pe-o'A) 

Mount Vaea (v&'a) 
myna (mi'na) 

nardoo (nar-doo') 

Negritos (n£-gre'tos) 

Negros (na'gros) 
neon (ne'6n) 

Neptune (ngp'tun) 

Netherlands (n8fh'er-l&ndz) 
New Guinea (gin'I) 

New Zealand (ze'l&nd) 

Niihau (ne'e-ha'od) 
nipa (ne'pa) 

Norway (nor'wa) 

Nullarbor (niil-ar'ber) 

Nuuanu (nob'oo-a'ndo) 

Oahu (o-a'hoo) 

Oamaru (o-a'ma-rdo) 
obelisk (6b'8-llsk) 
oleander (o'l£-&n'der) 
orangutan (6-r&ng'oo-t&n') 
Orient (o'ri-Snt) 

Oxley, John (6ks'li) 

Pacific (pa-slf'lk) 

Padang (pa-dang') 

Padang Pandjang (pa-dang' 
ptin'djang) 

Pago Pago (pang'6-pang'o) 
Pagsanjan (pag'san-han') 

Pali (pa'le) 

Palawan (pa-la'wan) 

Panay (pa-na'd) 
pandanus (p&n-da'ntis) 
papaya (pa-pa'ya) 


Papua (p5p'fi-a) 

Pasig (pa'slg) 

Pelorus (p£-lo'rtis) 

Perth (purth) 

Philippines (fil'I-pens) 
pina (pe'nya) 

Pindimar (pin'df-mar) 
platypus (pl&t'I-piis) 
poi (po'§) 

poincianas (poin'sf-a'na) 
poinsettias (poin-s8t'i-a) 

Polynesia (p6l'i-ne'shl-a) 

Pompeii (p6m-pa'ye) 

Port Augusta (port o-gtis'ta) 

Port Lyttelton (port llt"l-tiin) 

Port Moresby (port morz'bi) 

Queen Liliuokalani (le'le-oo-6- 
ka-la'n6) 

Queensland (kwenz'land) 

Raja (ra'ja) 

Rangitoto (r&ng'g£-to'to) 
rata (ra'ta) 

Ratu (ra'too) 

Recoleto (ra'k6-la'to) 

Renaissance (rSn'8-sans') 

Rewa (ra'wa) 
rijst tafel (rist' ta'f’l) 

Rizal (re-sal') 

Roggeveen (r5g'e-ven) 

Rotorua (ro't6-roo'a) 

sado (sa-do') 
sago (sa'go) 

St. Augustine (o'giis-ten') 

St. Lazarus (l&z'a-riis) 

St. Ramon (ra-mon') 

Samar (sa'mar) 

Samoa (sa-mo'a) 

Sandakan (san-da'k&n) 

San JuanJsSn hwan') 

Santa Ana (s&n'ta &n'a) 

Santa Cruz (s&n'ta krodz') 

Santo Domingo (san'tS do-ming'go) 



320 


PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY 


Santo Tomas (san'to td-mas') 
sarong (sa-rong') 

Savaii (sa-vl'e) 

Semarang (sS-ma'rang) 
siesta (sl-Ss'ta) 
sinamay (se'na-mi') 

Siquijor (se'k£-h6r') 
sisal (si's&l) 
siva-siva (se'va-se'va) 

Solomon (sdl'd-mun) 

Spaniard (sp&n'yerd) 

Sternberg (shtgrn'berk) 
sulu (sod-loo') 

Sulu Archipelago (sob'lob ar'k!- 
p&'a-go) 

Sumatra (sdo-ma'tra) 

Sumay (soo-ml') 

Surabaya (soo'ra-ba'ya) 
Surakarta (soo'ra-kar'ta) 
Sutherland (siifh'er-l&nd) 

Suva (soo'va) 

Switzerland (swit'zer-l&nd) 
Sydney (sld'nl) 

Taal (ta-al') 
taboo (t5,-bdo') 

Tahiti (ta-he'tS) 
talofa (ta-lo'fa) 

Tanjong Priok (tan'jbng pre'6k) 
Tantalus (t&n'ta-liis) 
tapa (ta'pa) 

Taranaki (ta'ra-na'kg) 
taro (ta'ro) 

Tasman (t&z'm&n) 

Tasmania (t&z-ma'nl-S,) 

Taupo (ta'oo-po) 
taupo (tou-po') 

Taveuni (ta'va-oo'nS) 

Tengger (tSng'ger) 

Theseus (the'sus) 
ti (te) 
tiki (te'ke) 

Tongariro (tSng'ga-re'ro) 

Toorak (toor'ak) 
trepang (trS-p&ng') 


trochus (tro'kus) 

Tudor (tu'der) 

Tusitala (tdo's£-ta'la) 

Tutuila (tbo'too-e'la) 

ukulele (u'kii-la'l§) 

Upolu (oo-po'loo) 

Vailima (vi-le'ma) 

Vesuvius (ve-su'vl-us) 

Victoria (vik-to'rl-a) 

Visayan (vS-sa'y&n) 

Waikiki (wa'e-ke'ke) 

Waimea (wa-e-ma'a) 

Wairakei (wa'e-ra-ka'e) 
Waitemata (wa-e't£-ma'ta) 
Waitomo (wi-to'mo) 

Wales (walz) 
wallaby (w6l'a-bi) 

Wanganui (wong'ga-noo-6) 
wayang (wa'yang) 
wayang kayoe (wa'yang kl'yo) 
wayang koelit (wa'yang ko'llt) 
wayang wong (wa'yang w6ng') 
Weltevreden (w81'te-vra-den) 
Whakarewarewa (hwa-ka-ra'wa- 
ra'wa) 

Windsor (wln'zer) 
womerah (wSm'er-a) 
wurley (wfir'li) 

Wyndham (wlnd'&m) 

yam (y&m) 
yamin (ya'min) 

Yarra (ySr'a) 

Ya-wi (ya'we) 

Yosemite (y6-sSm'ite) 

York (york) 

Yo-wi (yo'we) 

Zamboanga (sam'b6-ang'ga) 






BAGUIO 


CULION% 




-4 -4 —f -4 


-Philippine. 
'^ <Uan ^ A - 
ZAMBCAKGA/^O DAVAO 






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4ND NANCY 


LAYSAN ISLAND 


MIDWAY 1S| 


KAUAI 


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HAWAII 


WAKE ISLAND 


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SAVA II 
UPOLU 


TUTUILA 




^TAHITI ISLAND 






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3W PETER 
and NANCY 

ZJ^LCuresLexL 


CfycrCLt - 

CTstain -W H l u iH H 
Airplane-*'*-*'* 
Clipper ~+ —f 
Automobile - 


ROTO ALIA 




WELLINGTON 


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'CHRISTCHURCH 


'DUNEOIN 



















































